


Vanilla is for Ice Cream

by xotragician_child



Series: Vanilla [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: BDSM, Bandito Tyler, Bondage, Bullets era Frank, Congressman Gerard Way, Dom Gerard Way, Dom Tyler Joseph, Dom/sub, F/M, Gay, Heavy BDSM, Hesitant Era Gerard, Hippie Ryan Ross, M/M, Multi, Pink Haired Josh Dun, Rope Bondage, Secret Relationship, Sub Frank Iero, Sub Josh Dun, age gap, secretly gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 279,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24684919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xotragician_child/pseuds/xotragician_child
Summary: Frank is just an inquisitive young adult, with a penchant for politics, and a boyfriend in the loop. Gerard Way is just a congressman with a bright suit and even brighter hair. Frank just can't get enough of the older man and the way he walks, talks, and glances. And when Gerard finally lets Frank in, it unleashes something in both of them that neither would have expected, in ways that neither counted on. But it's all a secret now because, of course, Gerard's a very important man and, of course... Frank's just a kid.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Frank Iero/Ryan Ross, Frank Iero/Tyler Joseph, Gerard Way/Josh Dun, Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph, Lindsey Ballato/Gerard Way
Series: Vanilla [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784728
Comments: 97
Kudos: 206





	1. Defenseless and Needy like a Pup in Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Petcheater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petcheater/gifts).



> For a long time, I wanted to publish this as a book and charge people money to read it but the more I worked on it and on my other fics, the more I realized how unfair that is and how unhappy I was with taking money from people. I enjoy having people read my stuff way more than I do making money off of my work. So, here this is. Here it will stay.

"I am severely disappointed in you, Frank," Gerard said simply, his voice low, etched with a stern, deadly warning that had a tingle running down Frank's spine. The same kind of feeling you get when you're walking alone at night. Gerard ran his skilled, pale fingers through his windswept, slightly greasy, orange locks.

Frank couldn't reply however, he was more preoccupied with staring up at his Master, the submission piling over his senses like molasses. He tugged the rope around his wrists, the tight, thick cordage that bound each of his limbs to each of the mahogany bedposts, exposing and sprawling him out like a fur rug on which to be trampled. Frank let out a small whimper around the ball gag in his mouth, tugging again as he craned his neck to look at Gerard, who had his arms crossed over his chest, still dressed for work.

Gerard had sent Frank home early, getting more and more enraged with the young boy; but it was all on purpose. Frank had decided that morning that he had had enough of Gerard being so boring. Considering that ‘boring’ was Frank's usual spanking and degrading, and Gerard just wasn't getting the hint that his submissive wanted  _ more _ . Nor would Frank say he wanted more lest he receive a literal violent and unpleasant kicking in the ass.

So, that was when Frank had begun to mess up; spilling Gerard's coffee on the floor, misspelling his notes and wandering around like a lost fart. However, the cherry on the bondage-frosted cake was when Frank had pretended to be listening to music, well aware that the phone was ringing off the hook. He heard Gerard all but blow a fuse and storm out of his office, looking exactly like Frank had pictured. He was livid. And the dominant, death-like glare was doing something and everything to Frank's insides. Gerard ripped the earbuds from Frank's ears and grabbed the twenty-two-year-old by the ear, hoisting him up onto his feet. He told Frank that he was excused for the rest of the day and when Gerard got home, he was expecting Frank to be on the floor by their bed and he wanted visible marks on Frank's knees that he had been sitting there the entire time.

But of course, Frank went home and took a nap instead, falling asleep with a smirk on his face. He did, however, get into position a couple of minutes before Gerard got home, anticipation thrumming under his veins as he stripped down to nothing and waited, perched excitedly on his knees, eyes trained on the door like a puppy awaiting his owner. Frank did not have marks on his knees and Gerard looked even more pissed off. This was how Frank ended up in his current position, staring up at Gerard, who hadn't even gotten out of his clothing, only having shed his blazer. He was still dressed in his Prussian blue slacks, his crisp white shirt still tucked in, sleeves rolled up and his black tie loosened.

"So disappointed. What's gotten into you?" Gerard asked as he unfolded his arms, the riding crop coming into Frank's view again, immediately making the younger boy's asshole clench. Frank let out a muffled sound in reply and Gerard frowned, snapping the crop down, hitting Frank's big toe and making him jerk, "I didn't give you permission to answer me, did I, boy?"

Frank shook his head, feeling the sweat beading under his damp fringe from the constant panting and straining. His core muscles ached as he continued craning his neck to look up at his God, his worshipped Master, the man he based his life upon, keeping him high on the shiniest golden pedestal. Frank flopped back, giving up for a moment, letting his body rest as he tried to calm his insides. His heart threatened to potato-gun out of his ribcage like a flea on acid, his stomach continued to do jumping jacks between his colon and his diaphragm, and his brain that had whited out of reality minutes before when Gerard had grabbed him by the hair and thrown him into the mattress as though he were throwing a misbehaving dog outside.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you..." Gerard tutted, lowering the riding crop down, trailing it over the sole of Frank's foot, making him squeeze his eyes shut and his leg jerk as the intense tickling ran up his body. Frank bit down on the gag, trying his best not to kick and jerk and scream as the torture continued. Frank glanced down at Gerard between his feet, who was watching him solemnly, his eyebrow raised a fraction as he leaned an arm on the bedpost and slid the leather tip of the crop up and down over Frank's foot. Frank fell back again, his eyes widening before they shut as he clenched his fists, panting, feeling hot tears running down the sides of his face as he held on to whatever sanity he had left.

Eventually, he couldn't take any more of it, any more of Gerard's excruciating torture and he let out a loud shriek, kicking his foot away, knocking the crop from Gerard's hand and sending it flying, skittering across the hardwood floor. Frank froze, his chest rising and falling, coming to terms with how badly he had just fucked up. He stared up at Gerard; slurping slightly at the saliva that was now mingling with the tear tracks that had run over his face in a fluid mess.

"Now why did you go and do that, boy?" Gerard asked quietly and Frank let out nothing but a shaky breath, watching Gerard's eyes darken, "That wasn't clever, was it?"

Gerard walked over, picking up the riding crop and examining it as though it were a priceless jewel before he set it down, "You really are being recalcitrant today, aren't you, boy?" Frank whimpered, knowing that Gerard's diction and grammar got more and more fancy and eloquent as his temper rose. Frank didn't even know what the fuck Gerard had just called him but he knew it wasn't good.

"I'm going to have to do something about you and your lack of savoir-faire," Gerard said simply as he brought the riding crop down on his palm in a hard slap, making Frank jump. The latter frowned and Gerard smirked, "Such an ignorant boy. Your lack of tact and behavior, dog."

Frank sighed softly, flopping back, already asking for some deity he didn't believe in to take the wheel, just let him die already. As much as he was protesting, as much as he didn't want to be punished, he was fucking riveting. He was fucking pumped for it, his anticipation teetering on the edge because he had been waiting for so long to have Gerard looking at him like that again. And, oh God, Frank had any and all scenarios playing out in his head of what Gerard would do to him, but he didn't want to know.

"So, what am I going to do..." Gerard trailed off, undoing his tie and slipping it from his collar before he rolled it up, walking over to place it neatly in the top drawer where the other thousands of ties resided. He turned back, his eyes meeting Frank's fearful gaze, "I could always give you a nice caning, hmm?" 

Frank's eyes widened slightly at the thought of Gerard bending him over, making him touch his toes, holding onto his ankles as he aimed solid, full-armed swings at Frank's ass with a thickened cane.

"Oh, that got your attention, did it?" Gerard asked, a dark amusement on his face as he wandered closer, "Or how about I string you up and whip your pale rear-end. Give you a nice twenty-five to make you cry and beg, boy." Frank let out a high-pitched yelp, the mental image made his stomach tighten almost like he was going to vomit. He stared at his Master in fear, shaking his head slightly.

"No? You're telling me no, are you, dog?" Gerard asked, leaning over the side of the bed, his head hovering over Frank, who was officially trembling in fear, "How about a solid fucking belting, huh? Put you in your place when I put you over my knee. Or I make you stand, don't I? Make it impossible for you to sit. You'd like that, wouldn't you, you heedless little poach?"

Frank let out a groan, the venom in Gerard's voice practically dripping over his face like a large predator salivating over its weakened prey, about to kill and devour, "Or I'm gonna fuck you. Fuck you raw, unstretched, over and over, and never ever let you come. How does that sound, hmm? Fuck you for hours, having you sobbing in silence and you can't do a single thing about it like this, can you, boy?"

Frank swallowed hard, staring up at Gerard, his body all but melting into the bed when Gerard narrowed his eyes. His Master was smirking as he got up and walked to stand at the end of the bed, devilish hazel gaze branding every inch of his skin, "Aren't we in a predicament, now?" Gerard asked with a sneer, his eyes glinting despite being ringed by sleepless circles, as he untucked his shirt from his pants and slowly, teasingly slowly, he unbuckled his belt. He unfastened his pants, pausing to stare at Frank. Gerard continued his undress, unbuttoning his shirt slowly before unrolling his sleeves and shrugging the shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall from his pale and unmarked body. Frank sucked a breath in through his nostrils as he took in his Master's skin, wishing to savor the touch of his God, of his Golden Calf to worship and follow. 

Gerard smirked, looking down at himself and at Frank, "Oh you wish, don't you?" Frank nodded, letting out a desperate whine but Gerard scoffed lightly, "Should have thought about that before you decided to continue with your transgressions."

Frank cursed himself internally, staring at Gerard as the latter bent down, kicking his shoes off and pulling his socks from his feet before he straightened up and unzipped his pants. He let them fall, standing there in the tightest pair of black boxers that left absolutely nothing to Frank's imagination. The younger male stared at Gerard with a burning hunger in his belly, trying his best to ignore his own aching erection. Frank couldn’t help the scanning over his Master; no matter where he looked his gaze would continue to travel back to Gerard's crotch, the black material, and the way it stretched over Gerard's dick. It made his mouth water and a fresh surge of butterflies erupted from his core. 

Gerard stepped out of his pants before he crawled onto the end of the bed and inched forward, sitting between Frank's legs. They locked eyes again for a moment before Frank looked away, knowing he would get in even more trouble if he looked his Master in the eye. He stared up at the ceiling as the weight shifted and Frank felt Gerard's body hovering over his, Gerard's face suddenly coming into view.

"Look at me, boy." Gerard commanded and Frank swallowed, looking at his Master, who was staring down at him with a solemn, stoic face, "I'm going to wreck you. For hours." Gerard bit his lip, "Oh, you're not going to be able to do a thing about it... Helpless, useless... Weak." Frank whimpered softly and Gerard leaned back before a slow stream of spit landed on Frank's face, running down his mouth and his cheek, their eyes locked as Gerard actually spat on him.

"Weak little boy." Gerard muttered, "Look at you, hmm? Defenseless and needy like a pup in heat." Frank scrunched his eyes closed, pretending that all of the insults and the disgusting words weren't getting to his insides, that they weren't making his stomach tighten in knots over and over, that it wasn't making his heart race and his dick ache even more than it was.

He wanted to be angry about Gerard spitting on him, he wanted to be offended, but he couldn't. Frank never knew he needed it, he never thought that something as simple and disgusting as the saliva of his Master would get him going as much as it did. He could feel it running down his neck and he shuddered. He looked away from Gerard, who took Frank's jaw in his long fingers, gripping it before his slicked digits slid down to Frank's throat, squeezing it tightly. The momentary cut-off of his circulation had Frank’s tongue feel heavy in his mouth, the pressure to the sides of his neck from cold fingers had his heart skip a beat. Gerard let go and Frank gasped slightly, relieved that the tickle in the back of his throat had ceased when his neck had been released. Gerard lifted him up, sliding a pillow underneath Frank's lower back with a proven skill before he raised Frank, even more, pushing against him with a smirk, "You better pray, boy. You're going to wish you were dead when I'm done with you.”


	2. When a Date is as Painful as Pulling Teeth

Yeah, Frank was late, he was totally late no matter how you wanted to see it. And it was by about fifteen minutes, not exactly a train smash by normal standards, but this wasn’t normal standards. It was a Tuesday. He cursed under his breath as he glanced at the clock on the dashboard of his car, the mental image of Ryan pacing in the kitchen ran through his mind.

Frank wasn’t usually late; he wasn’t the most punctual of human beings but he kept himself somewhat in check. Especially Tuesday. Usually, he kept track. Usually, he tried not to get too deeply involved with work so late in the day but he had delved into the latest article, and by the time he looked up from the screen again, everyone had already left for the day. He knew he had literally discarded his work at his desk, not bothering to pack away, barely remembering to take his phone and wallet in his hasty scramble to get out to his car so that he could race home and try and save himself from his boyfriend’s disapproving scowl.

It was when Frank had been caught by his fourth red traffic light in a row, slamming on the brakes as he stared at the crimson light, did he begin to think that the universe was really out to get him.

Frank had eventually managed to get home, only after another ten minutes, however, making his total tally even more of a thorn on Ryan’s curvy side. He forced his key into the door and pushed it open, surprised that his force didn’t snap the key entirely. He waltzed into the house and looked around, breathless and panting, as he held a forming stitch in his side from the jog he had endured- the short distance from car to house had never seemed too far to him before. He pulled his shoulder bag off from across his chest and with a heady breath and tossed it aside onto the sofa. He turned on his heel and put his keys in the bowl. No Ryan in sight. Not good.

He walked into the kitchen and sucked his breath back in sharply when he saw Ryan sitting at the table, arms folded tightly across his chest, dark brown eyes trained and eyebrow cocked up with a deviously-irritated curiosity. Frank could only imagine that Ryan was sitting and waiting for whatever reason he had to scramble for, and Frank could only offer a weak and apologetic smile in return. 

After all, it was a Tuesday, it was date night. The one night a week that they had decided to dedicate to each other and themselves. And with Ryan being… Ryan, he was naturally the timekeeper between the two, the organizer, the so-called housewife. And by God, was wifey going to have their date night go as planned. And Frank knew it, too.

Frank looked at Ryan and pointed to the door with his thumb over his shoulder as the latter remained unmoving from his chair, except his eyes. Those eyes, so perceptive and hawk-like when they wanted to be, but so doe-like and so enticing at the same time that you couldn’t help but be drawn into the chocolate irises much like Frank was.

“Fuck, babe, I’m so damn sorry.” Frank apologized instantly, hitting that dulcet plead in his tone, internally hoping that Ryan wouldn’t be mad at him, “I-I got caught up at work. I was reading this article on political outstands in Uganda for my article and-”

Ryan raised a hand, “It’s fine,” He sighed out, smiling softly, a relieving sight to Frank, “I assumed you were running late anyway.”

“The traffic was erroneous, dude. I kept hitting the-”

“Oh, my God. Will you relax?” Ryan cut him off midstream, unfurled his arms from his chest, a graceful action that matched literally everything that he ever did, and tucked a flyaway stray curl back behind his ear, “I don’t need the gory details. You’re here now so it’s fine, sweetheart.”

“I’d be mad at me if I were you,” Frank muttered as he wandered to the fridge and opened it, stealing a bottle of water.

“Well, I’m me and I’m not mad.” Ryan reassured as Frank took a long swig of water, “Let’s not ruin the evening.”

Frank could definitely not ignore the tone to Ryan’s voice, he could tell that Ryan had not hit fury, but he had hit that particular tone of ornery condescension. Frank winced, feeling guilt in his stomach that he had somehow already ruined the evening for them both.

“You look nice,” Frank added airily as he shut the fridge, looking at Ryan who was sat at the table, spindly fingers steepled and littered with chunky silver rings. Ryan looked at his watch, plump lips pouting when he clearly caught sight of the time. It would be the same as always. Reservation at Château Rouge, table booked for seven that evening. It had now reached the point where they didn't even need to make a reservation, it was just expected of them to pitch up like always.

And from the furrow in Ryan’s brows, Frank could tell that it was probably nearing close to seven already. They weren’t going to make it on time and it was making the curly-haired man anxious. Frank was still going to have to get ready. Shower, get changed, potter around as he did. Frank could see Ryan’s leg twitching under the table. Ryan despised tardiness as much as he hated people who put on sock, shoe, sock shoe instead of sock, sock, shoe, shoe. Something Frank did when he wanted to piss off his partner. 

“Thanks.” Ryan sighed quietly, running a hand over his striped shirt and the paisley waistcoat that was opened over it. His fingers lay a gentle grip on the multiple necklaces he had on around his neck. Frank slid a finger into the knot of his tie to loosen it, pulling the lengthy silk completely undone before he tugged it from underneath the collar of his shirt, “Are you going to take long to get ready?”

“Nah,” Frank shrugged as he walked towards the stairs, already unbuttoning his shirt, “Quick shower and a clothing change. Ready in no time.” Frank caught Ryan staring at him, worry in his brows, “What is it, babe?”

“You gonna wear that shirt again for dinner?” Ryan asked nonchalantly, wondering how he had missed Frank putting it on this morning. It was the same shirt Frank always wore to dinner because it was the shirt Ryan had bought for him as a gift. It wasn’t exactly Frank’s usual style, mainly because it wasn’t black, but rather a dusty periwinkle with lighter swirls over the left side. Ryan loved it so Frank loved it too, it was that simple. 

“Probably not, dude.” Frank told him as he unbuttoned it completely, putting his hands on his hips, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, “I wore it to work, it’s got work-smell on it.”

“Work-smell?”

“Ink and paper and sweat.” Frank chortled softly as Ryan swallowed.

“Oh okay.” Ryan’s voice was flat, hiding his disappointment pitifully at Frank’s outfit choices, “Don’t take too long, please.”

“Five minutes, babe,” Frank told his boyfriend as he threw a smile over his shoulder before jogging up the stairs, already trying to decide what he wanted to wear. The last thing Frank wanted was to make Ryan even more anxious than he already was.

Twenty minutes later and they were finally out of the front door with Ryan sliding into the car and Frank bustling to lock the door behind him. Ryan sat and chewed on his nails nervously as he sat in the passenger seat, his seatbelt already across his chest. So late.

Frank climbed into the car, slamming the door lightly as he started it, withholding the sigh in his throat as Ryan looked at his watch for the thousandth time, “Please relax.”

“What if the table might have been taken because what if they thought that we aren’t coming? Of course, we are but what if they just assumed and gave our table to someone else? What if we turn up and would have to sit elsewhere? What if we turn up and there’s nowhere for us to sit?” Ryan rambled on, his voice rising in octave as they pulled out of the driveway and out onto the street. Frank remained casual despite the tense hippie beside him that was biting on his bottom lip and staring frantically out of the window.

“Relax…” Frank smiled, reaching a hand over to give Ryan’s thigh a squeeze, keeping his hand there for a prolonged second until he had to change gears, “It won’t matter if we’re a tad late, dude.”

“You took so long to get dressed,” Ryan grumbled, glancing sideways at Frank with a pointed upturn of his button nose. Ryan wasn’t angry and Frank knew it, Frank couldn’t help that he was running late at work, but he could have been a little quicker with getting ready for their date, “I’ve never known a person to take so long getting ready.”

“I didn’t take  _ that  _ long.” Frank rolled his eyes, whining in protest, looking down at his outfit in the dark evening light. He couldn’t argue that he had taken longer because he was on the hunt for a very specific black shirt that he wanted to wear with his grey jeans. He didn’t want to wear a t-shirt, he didn’t want to be so casual when Ryan was the epitome of grace and elegance in his bootcut jeans and paisley, “I took a normal amount of time to get ready.”

“I hope they didn’t give our table away.” Ryan sighed, “We’re so late.”

“Ry, c’mon, please just relax.” Frank smiled, turning the car off of the main street, “We’re minutes away. They’re not going to give it away.”

“You sound so confident.” 

“Because they know by now. We’re there every damn week,” Frank smirked as he flicked the indicator light, slowing the car down at a stop sign, “They know who we are, they practically know what we order. Just relax. Let’s have a nice evening, okay?”

Ryan pursed his lips as they drove off down the street, his eyes down at his phone as he undoubtedly checked the time again. He took in a deep breath, clearly trying his best to calm himself down to a semblance of the same level that Frank was at, “Alright. I’m calm.”

“Good.” Frank nodded as they turned into the car park, the same car park that they always drove into every Tuesday. They parked in the same space near the wall and the car came to a stop before completely switching off, “So what if we are late anyway? We’re here now so it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” Ryan replied, practically out of the car already, his voice apprehensive and dubious despite the fact that Frank knew he had a point. They were finally at the restaurant, the warm glow emanating from the large front windows, “You can explain why we were late.”

“We don’t need to explain jack squat, babe.” Frank chuckled as he climbed out of the car and slammed the door and walked around the front of the car, “We don’t owe them anything except our money in about an hour or so.”

They walked into the restaurant and Frank stopped at the hostess stand, realizing with a twinge of regret that perhaps they should have phoned ahead for once as Ryan suggested. It wasn’t that the restaurant was busy on that random Tuesday evening, there were free tables dotted around the small restaurant, but it was the fact that some of the tables had been moved around to form one long table down one side of the room. Waiters were laying cutlery and glasses as they walked in and Frank noted that their usual table near the window was nowhere to be seen.

“What in the-?” Ryan whispered, sounding appalled as a frown knitted his dark brows, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Frank answered rapidly despite it being a clear lie, he still wanted to assuage Ryan’s panicking but it was no use when there was clearly something going on, “I- I don’t know, dude.”

Frank had no clue and wished he could tell Ryan to allay his worries, but it was definitely for naught. He felt guilty now, looking at his boyfriend, ready to apologize, and open his mouth when Ryan took a step closer and approached a passing waitress.

“Hi,” Ryan smiled at her, “We had a table booked for seven? Sorry… We ran a bit late.”

“Oh,” The waitress breathed out in surprise, clearly recognizing the two regulars, “We didn’t think you guys were going to show.”

Ryan shot Frank a pointed look and Frank raised his hands up innocently. He didn’t think that they had run late to the point that their table had been given away. Ryan looked at her again, “Can we still eat? Our usual table seems to be… Missing?”

“Like I said, we thought you weren’t coming tonight,” The waitress explained, pointing towards the long table that was still being set up, “We have a group of twenty coming in so we had to rearrange.”   
  
Ryan seemed unhappy at that. Frank could sense that Ryan wasn’t okay; he could see the look of sheer panic in his eyes. Frank knew that he was going to have to take control of this so Ryan didn’t have a minor meltdown. A table was a table even if it wasn’t the exact one needed to have a nice evening.

“Can we still eat?” Frank asked the waitress with a smile, “We made the reservation-”   
  
“We didn’t,” Ryan muttered under his breath so only Frank could hear.

“Look, we didn’t mean to run late, but can we still eat?”    
  
“There is a free table, but it’s not your usual one, guys.” The waitress waved a hand apologetically, pointing towards a table on the other side of the small restaurant, “We can set you up there. Shall I bring you over some menus?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan immediately turned to Frank, the latter knew his boyfriend was not liking the idea of sitting somewhere else in the restaurant one bit. It wasn’t like he was out of his comfort zone with the other table; and that made him internally squirm at the idea of sitting somewhere else, “Frank, what do you think?”   
  
“I think a table is a table,” Frank shrugged, knowing that wherever they sat was going to be just fine, but this was also Ryan with whom he was trying to reason. “Look,” Frank backtracked fast, hoping to save the situation, “Just because we don’t have our usual table doesn’t mean that we won’t have a nice time.”

“Maybe we should just go home,” Ryan suggested, “Get some food on the way...”   
  
“No,” Frank protested, realizing that the waitress was still standing by to find out if they wanted the free table or not, “We are here, there is a table, let’s just have a nice evening, hmm?” Frank smiled at him before turning back to the waitress, “We’ll take the table.”   
  
“But it's not our usual one...” Ryan complained again under his breath, walking close to Frank so he could hear while the waitress guided them to the dreaded table.

“Look at it like this, dude,” Frank began after the waitress told them that she would bring over some menus, “It could be our table. What if they rearranged the tables to the point that our table that was once over there, is now right here, and we are actually sitting at our usual table.”

Ryan looked skeptical at first, but Frank was already taking his seat, hoping that Ryan would follow suit. Which he finally did after an agonizing pause of clear indecision. The tall man pretty much just caved, seemingly liking the idea of the table actually being their table after all. Yes, it wasn't the same, but it could be for one night. Their table had just been moved. 

“See,” Frank smiled at him from the other side of the table, resting his chin on his fingers, “This is nice.”

“I guess.” Ryan said, still not feeling quite comfortable but the waitress had come back, handing them both menus before asking them what they wanted to drink, “I'll have a soda water with lemon please.”

“Single Jack and ginger, if you please.”

“You're driving.” Ryan pointed out, hoping and praying that Frank wasn't thinking about getting drunk tonight. Drunk Frank was fun Frank, but there was no way in hell that Ryan would get in the same car as him. Plus he didn't want to fork out a small fortune on a taxi fare home if Frank did decide that he wanted to drink tonight. They had already decided in the car anyway; Frank was driving tonight. Ryan was the one who could have a few drinks.

“It's only one,” Frank reassured him after the waitress had said that she would be back in a moment with their drinks, “Relax. I'm not getting drunk.”

“Okay, good.” Ryan nodded, picking up his menu before opening it and looking at it.

“Don’t know why you even bother to look, babe,” Frank smirked playfully, knowing that Ryan was going to order the same thing that he ordered every week.

“I like to look,” Ryan told him with a playful scowl, looking at Frank over the top of his menu, “I might want something different.”

“Really?” Frank asked, genuinely curious because he was now looking at the menu, because he always mixed it up and ordered something different. Or at least rotated what he had when they came here to eat. Ryan always had the steak, medium rare, with a baked potato and side of vegetables. When his food came he always ordered himself a white wine spritzer. Same thing every week. He was a creature of habit. So very unlike his significant other who relished change and new things. 

“So are you going to order something different?” Frank asked casually before thanking the waitress for bringing over their drinks, practically knowing that Ryan wasn’t going to change his mind, but he was just curious to see if Ryan was going to push the boat out and add some variety to their date night for once.

“Nah,” Ryan decided instantly after seeing what he always ordered on the menu. He closed it, setting the menu down before he smiled, “I know what I like, I’ll stick to it. You know what you’re having?”   
  
“I don’t know…” Frank said slowly, eyes scanning over all the choices that were laid out in front of him, “The eggplant steaks sound nice…”   
  
“What did you have last week?”   
  
“God, I dunno,” Frank sighed, unable to remember because it had been a whole week since they had last been here, “Something veggie.”

“Well, you better hurry up and decide,” Ryan spoke quickly, noticing that the waitress was watching them, “Think she’s coming over.”   
  
“What can I get you guys?” The waitress smiled after walking back over and rejoining the pair, standing by their table while holding her pen poised against a pad of paper, “You having what you always have?”   
  
Frank looked up, he knew that the waitress was talking to Ryan, who was known for never really changing his order when they came to eat. He smiled, wondering if Ryan was going to have a last-minute change of heart, but he didn’t when he picked up his menu and handed it to her.

“Yeah.” Ryan told her, “My usual.”   
  
“Medium rare steak, baked potato and a side of veg,” The waitress said out loud as she wrote down his dinner order, “Still having a spritzer with your meal?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Riesling?”   
  
“As always.” Ryan smiled at her, feeling quite proud of the fact that he could make the minimum effort on his order because the staff here knew. It was so much easier just to stick to the same thing and Ryan liked that. 

“And you?” The waitress turned to look at Frank, waiting for him to say what he wanted, but he had no idea. He ran his thumb over his chin like it was going to help him figure it out. He ended up remembering what he had had the week before. Risotto.

“I’ll have…” Frank spoke slowly, having one final scan of the menu, seeing Ryan looking at him pointedly, “Dude, I don’t know…”   
  
Ryan groaned audibly then, rolling his eyes. 

“You want me to give you another minute?” The waitress asked nicely, still smiling her pink lipstick smile.

“We don’t need another minute.” Ryan reassured her politely, “Frank, you know yet?”   
  
“I’ll have the roasted asparagus and tomato pasta, please.” Frank finally answered, closing his menu before handing it to the waitress.

“Anything else?”

“We're good for now,” Frank told her, smiling at her, watching her when she said that their food would be with them soon before she disappeared off into the kitchen.

'Comfortable' was the main word when it came to Ryan, in Frank’s opinion. Even though Frank knew that Ryan wished that they were sat in their usual place on the other side of the restaurant. Their usual spot was now being taken up by the growing group of people who were at the long setup table. He still knew that they were going to have a nice time; the few hours of catch-up and reconnecting.

They had been together since high school; sweethearts that stuck hip-to-hip after leaving school, scraping together enough money to get their own place. It was perfect for Ryan because he knew, from an early age, what he wanted to do with his life. Something that he really knew once he had figured out his sexuality and got himself a boyfriend that he loved so much.

“You okay over there?” Frank asked, frowning when he noted the small twinkle in Ryan's eye as he fiddled with one of his silver rings.

“I’m good,” Ryan spoke, hand over his mouth as he stifled a hiccup, “Would rather be sat over there, though.” He pointed towards their usual place across the restaurant, already getting a little too noisy for Ryan's liking. 

“Well, we are making the best of a bad situation.” Frank shrugged, smiling warmly.

“One that you created,” Ryan noted, wiping the smile from Frank’s lips, drinking more of his drink before he piped up, “You never did tell me why you ran late.”

“Didn’t I?” Frank frowned, trying to tiptoe around the reason because he knew why he had run late was the makings of a dull conversation that really wasn't appropriate for date night, “It doesn't matter. We are here now, so that's all that matters.”

“But it matters to me,” Ryan pouted slightly, “Tell me, I wanna know.”

So Frank began what seemed to sound like the long and arduous explanation as to why he had made them late for their reservation. It really wasn't worth the conversation, they easily could have talked about something more interesting, like what they were going to be doing at the weekend, but no. Frank knew that Ryan wouldn't leave it be until he knew exactly why; he liked to be in the loop. After ten minutes of explaining how he had run late because he had lost track of time on some work, even Frank swore that he was getting bored of the sound of his own voice. 

“Sorry,” Frank apologized quickly when he caught Ryan looking at him with bored and tired eyes, propping his face up with his hand, elbow resting on the table, “This must be boring.”   
  
“It’s not,” Ryan reassured him with a smile, “I’m not finding it boring. I’m just glad that work is going well.”

Work was the one thing that Frank about which he knew he couldn’t complain; he worked for a local newspaper. He had scored the job not long after he and Ryan had moved in together. Ryan's parents ran the newspaper itself, taking it from Ryan’s grandfather when he passed on. Frank had been offered the job because he and their son had been dating for so long now that he was practically a part of the family. Frank enjoyed his job, but even when the workload got hard, he knew he couldn’t complain to Ryan because one way or another, his complaint would make it back to his boss; his unofficial father-in-law.

“So, my dude, how was your day?” Frank asked, running through the obvious choice of conversation starters because it was easier and even talking to Ryan- which should have been the easiest thing to do- became hard because they were in each other’s space all the time. He found it hard because they had gotten to a point where Frank honestly didn’t know what to say to Ryan.

Ryan went on about his day at work. The kind of talking and explaining what had happened to him which went into great detail. The epic tale of an accountant. Frank felt himself zoning out at one point because, as much as he was listening, he still felt his brain going into autopilot mode. Frank didn’t feel bad about it, to be honest. He used to feel guilty for losing focus on Ryan's grandiosely dull stories, but with how long they had been together and how they had already become an old married couple at twenty-two, Frank sometimes felt himself wandering in his own head. Ryan went on smiling and laughing when he told the story about some joke which wasn’t actually that funny to Frank.

_ Accountants have a really poor sense of humor, _ Frank thought to himself. He still laughed though. The dry, weak laugh that sounded kind of fake, but because Ryan was in mid-flow talking about his day, he didn’t pick up on it. Neither did he pick up on how Frank was holding his drink, thumb running over the rim of the glass, looking into it before he gazed over at a nearby table. 

They were here yet again on yet another repetitive date night and two people were sat not far from them a couple of tables over. A man and a woman who made Frank smile. They looked happy; he assumed that they were together. The man was reaching out, holding onto the woman's hand while he watched her intently. He looked genuinely interested in what she was saying and he laughed when she laughed at something funny. Plus the way they talked and he leaned closer to her. The way they just seemed to have this amazing vibe coming from them like a warm aura of love and affection.

Frank loved Ryan, he did. He had loved him from the moment they had said the words back in high school, but something was now missing. Frank could sense the spark from the couple a few tables over from them, but it made him wonder where his and Ryan's spark had gone. Was it still there? Was it just buried underneath everything else? All the nine-to-five routines and far too comfortable nights in and the goodnight kisses at bedtime with no possibility of sex to come from it?

“Are you listening to me?” Ryan asked, noticing how Frank staring off into space instead of putting his full attention onto what was being said.

“I’m listening.” Frank snapped his head back around, looking right at Ryan with complete honesty plastered over his face, even though he hadn’t really been paying attention, “You were talking about Spencer and the near office-lovers tiff that he had had with Scott.”  
  
Frank had been listening and Ryan just sat in his chair, looking at Frank, smirking at him, “What?” Frank raised an eyebrow.  
  
“I thought I’d lost you for a second,” Ryan said with an offish shrug, slowly sipping on his drink. Frank would never admit that he had been looking at the other couple across from them, jealous because even from just a quick glance and a quick assumption, their relationship was much more exciting and romantic than what Frank had with Ryan. 

“With you the whole time.” Frank smiled at his partner, putting Ryan’s mind at ease. Ryan continued, talking more about work, talking about his day in general, talking about his journey home from work. Deep down, sometimes all he wanted to do was to tell Ryan to shut the fuck up. Hell, even find something more interesting to talk about so Frank could actually engage in the same conversation. He sighed, finding himself glancing back over to the table that had caught his attention in the first place.

The other couple was eating now, both of them were paying attention to the plates in front of them, but they were still talking. The woman had said something, making the man smile before he responded to her. Actual conversation; not just one of them being talked at because the one who was being talked at had just been trying to be polite. Frank watched for a moment, still feeling jealous of how they seemed to connect on such a simple thing like going out for dinner.

Frank didn’t want them to come across as an old couple at the ripe old age of twenty-two, but God, Ryan was the kind of guy who could’ve probably have passed off as over-thirty with his behavior and view on their relationship. He was happy with the quiet dinners out, happy with the bedtime kisses before rolling over and going to sleep, and happy to just go day-in and day-out without any excitement.

Frank missed that, the excitement of it all. He missed going out and cutting loose, getting a little drunk with Ryan before stumbling home and ending up in bed with him, or even in the kitchen with him.

Frank noticed how the guy at the table held out a forkful of food to the woman. He looked like he was trying to encourage her to try his meal, which she did, leaning over and eating right from his fork. Frank couldn't remember the last time that they had even done that. It wasn’t that Ryan was apprehensive about sharing food, it was just that it was something that never happened between them. Not at home, or even out at restaurants.

“Frank, did you just hear what I was saying?” Ryan said a little louder, making Frank look back at him, realizing that he hadn’t been listening then. He looked wide-eyed at Ryan, trying to think on the spot.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded confidently, “I’m sure it’ll be good.”

Ryan huffed then, sitting back in his chair, “You weren’t listening to me.”   
  
“I was!” Frank insisted.

“So,” Ryan cleared his throat, “If Spencer keeps up with the arguing, you think him getting fired will be good?”   
  
Frank opened his mouth to answer, but Ryan had caught him and he knew there was no way to prove that he had actually heard. Frank didn’t care about some guy that he barely knew getting fired. Frank spoke, trying to save himself, "That's not what I meant."

“Oh?” Ryan quirked an eyebrow up at him, watching Frank squirm while he spoke, “Do go on.”

Luckily, something happened that had Frank realize that he could save himself at least. He knew how fussy Ryan would get if he had been paying attention to him, but thank God. Frank breathed a sigh of relief, pointing towards the kitchen as their waitress started to bring over their meals, “I thought I saw our food.”   
  
“Really…?" Ryan said, not sounding too convinced. He pursed his lips when his plate was set down in front of him, “You got distracted by our food?”

“Dude, you know me when I’m hungry,” Frank smiled, thankful as all hell that the waitress had decided to appear at that very moment. She said she would be back with Frank’s plate, giving him a window to finally save himself, “Can’t concentrate when I’m hungry.”   
  
“Uh-huh,” Ryan muttered, picking up a carrot from his side and eating it. He didn’t want to cause an argument in public but he knew that Frank hadn’t been paying attention to him. Ryan just let it go, smiling at the waitress when she brought over Frank's meal and his white wine spritzer, “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Frank technically hadn’t been lying; it had been perfect timing in all honesty. He was the kind of guy who couldn’t concentrate when he had an empty stomach. He was also the kind of guy who could happily put up with a few minutes of silence while he started to eat his dinner, realizing just how hungry he actually was. Ryan was the same with his meal. It was like some form of preparation for him. He put his side vegetables onto the plate and he always made sure that everything was separated. Then he would sit there, poised with his knife and fork ready. Frank always watched for a moment, knowing full well that Ryan was taking a moment to decide what he was going to eat first. Did he ever consider changing it up and eating his baked potato before moving onto the steak? Was that what was going through Ryan's head right now? Steak or potato? He went for the steak first as always, starting to cut it up on his plate.

They talked while eating. Frank was sure that the conversation probably wasn’t the same kind that the couple over from them were having, but Frank tried to push them out of his mind. He was still trying to enjoy their evening out. It wasn’t like one couple could be the people that ended up putting a damper on the evening for Frank. Ryan was having a good time, he said that he was enjoying his food like he always did when the waitress came over to check. Frank nodded at her too, unable to answer with a mouthful of food.

They would have their meal and then maybe, just maybe, at bedtime Ryan would suggest something that would put a smile on Frank’s face. That was if he was lucky. It wasn’t even his birthday anytime soon.

“So…” Frank piped up, changing the subject halfway through his meal, sipping on his drink before looking at Ryan, “I got given an opportunity at work today.”   
  
“Did you?” Ryan queried, looking excited for Frank because usually when he got an  _ opportunity,  _ it usually came with a bonus of some sort, “What kind of opportunity?”   
  
“To write an article,” Frank explained, smiling, “Basically, I go and interview someone in politics for like, how they got into it. What they plan to do. Usual questions. Unfortunately, I can’t ask how fucked up the system is, but I think we all pretty much know the answer to that without even questioning.”

“That’s fantastic! I’m so proud of you,” Ryan beamed, he knew Frank could do it because Frank was pretty clued up on stuff like this unlike himself. He took a sip of his wine, “How long do you have to do it?”

“A week,” Frank said, feeling nervous about it because seven days really didn’t seem like a long time, especially seeing as he didn’t know anyone and he barely had any decent connections. Yes, he knew that he could find people to talk to through work, but actually bagging himself a politician with whom he could talk. Hell, he didn’t know many, if at all any that lived in his area.

“That’s not bad.”

“They know I have an interest in politics so that’s why they offered it to me. They know I will do a good job on it because I actually really want to do it.” Frank added with a small smug smile, mentally patting himself on the back.

“That’s amazing,” Ryan continued to gleam over at his shorter partner.

“Yeah.” Frank smiled, taking a sip of his drink, in his mind, he knew he was going to do it and do it well because this was his chance to prove himself.

“So do you know who you are going to do the article on?   
  
“I don’t know...” Frank deflated with a sigh, pushing his dinner around his plate for a moment, “I don’t really have any connections to anyone political. I can probably get through to someone at work, but it’s going to be hard to get an interview with only a week.”

“I know someone.” Ryan smiled, a knowing and cryptical smile that seemed to make his entire face light up in a different warmth. Frank knew that look, that face. Ryan was feeling pretty confident that he could help.

“What?” Frank stopped dead, a fork of food halfway to his mouth before dropping it back down to his plate, “How? Wh- Dude, how have you never told me this?”   
  
“Oh relax,” Ryan chuckled, waving a hand at Frank because he honestly looked like he was trying to remember if this was something that he had been told before and he had just forgotten about it, “I have a friend who got a job as an assistant for someone big in the area. They’re not the brightest person and I’m pretty sure that they won’t last as their assistant.”

“Who?” Frank frowned, trying to picture and imagine one of Ryan's friends working for someone in politics.    
  
“Remember Brendon?” Ryan asked, wondering if Frank remembered him from the last time they hung out some months back at some birthday party that Ryan had originally not wanted to go to. He had been glad that he had gone in the end. 

Frank thought for a second, trying to remember who this guy was. Eventually, he figured out who Ryan was talking about, “Forehead. Yep, I remember him.”

“He is the assistant to someone pretty high up.” Ryan explained, hoping that he was going to be helping Frank out in some way. Even if Frank couldn’t talk to the person that Brendon worked for, then at least he could try and put him in touch with someone who would be available, “So, maybe I can talk to him and see if he can do something. Do me a favor so you can write your article. Blow my dad out of the water with it.”

Frank couldn’t believe that Ryan would do that for him. He didn’t know what to say for a second, mouth opening and closing a few times before finally he found words that seemed even a semblance worthy, “That would be amazing. Thanks, Ry.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Frank felt so happy; the dull cloud that had been hanging over his head seemed to have lifted. All thanks to him piping up about how his day had been at work. 

“Your food looks nice...” Frank changed the subject again, looking over to the other table, wondering if Ryan would swap food like the other couple had done. 

“It is nice,” Ryan agreed with a nod, “One of the reasons why I get it when we come here.”   
  
“Can I actually try some of yours?” Frank asked, testing the water to see if Ryan would actually do it. Such a simple thing to do; just put some on a fork and reach across the table. If the couple over from them could do it then why in the world couldn’t Ryan? There were probably many reasons why he couldn’t and wouldn’t do it, but Frank was being optimistic, waiting for Ryan to do it.

“Sure,” Ryan told him, pushing the side across the table so it was closer to Frank.

“Oh,” Frank uttered flatly, In reality it was nothing but to Frank, it bothered him and knocked the wind out of his sails a little bit. Why couldn’t Ryan just be a little more like the guy from across the restaurant? Why couldn’t he just be a bit more… Frank didn’t even want to finish that thought.

“What?” Ryan questioned, wondering why Frank looked like he had just sucked on a lemon.

“Nothing,” Frank muttered, trying not to sound like he was done, but deep down inside of him, there was a small part of him that was more 'done' than an overcooked steak.


	3. Shot Down By Oral Hygiene

"I like this,” Ryan spoke once they were out of the restaurant, the cool night air hitting the two of them after they had finished their meals, paid the bill, and finally left.

“What do you mean?” Frank asked curiously, walking alongside Ryan, instinctively going to hold his hand because that was what they did after dinner on a Tuesday night.

“I mean, I like what we do,” Ryan reiterated, “Going out like this. Same time every week. It’s nice.”

“Yeah...” Frank answered with a sigh that Ryan didn’t pick up on. It had been more than nice when they would go to the movies, or would just do something that would be different and not what they did every week. 

“You wanna go for a walk, babe?” Frank asked, not wanting the evening to end just yet. Ryan needed a push, is all. Frank wanted to push him in a healthy way that might get him into doing something different. Even if it was just a walk to the park that Frank knew was nearby.

“Nah,” Ryan shook his head, looking down at his feet while they walked, “Think I’m feeling an early night.”  
  
“Oh, okay,” Frank hummed, trying not to sound disheartened, “Okay, so… Are we just going home then?”

“Frank…” Ryan practically purred, “I mean, I want to go home… And have an _early_ night with you.”

It took a second for the penny to drop in Frank's head. When it did, it was like a penny drop in an ocean, causing a tidal wave of thoughts and realization that made Frank's eyes go wide, “Oh…”

“Yeah,” Ryan smirked, “ _Oh_.”

“So, do we… Do you wanna...” Frank stumbled on his words; he hadn't been expecting Ryan to say that to him. It had been a while since they had last been intimate and Frank honestly didn't quite know what to do. He was practically giddy, “Home?”

“I think that's probably the best thing to do huh?” Ryan giggled softly, loving how flustered Frank got at the prospect of sex.

“Right.” Frank nodded, his hand slipping from Ryan's so he could get his car keys out of his jacket, pulling them out as the pair started to make their way towards where he had parked earlier, “‘Kay. Home.”

“You okay?” Ryan had to ask, while Frank fumbled with the car keys. He could barely get them in the lock, far too excited for his own good. He practically ripped the car door off its hinges when he got it open.

“I'm good.” Frank nodded, knowing that he was going to be doing more than okay very soon. He felt like all of his birthdays had just rolled into one because waiting nearly two weeks to have sex was a long time to go without. Plus, he would have known if it was his birthday. Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle at Frank's eagerness. He shoved the key into the ignition, turning it before looking back, reversing out of the car parking space. Driving out onto the road, putting his foot down on the accelerator a little more than necessary.

“Y’know,” Ryan said when he realized that Frank was driving faster. One of his hands held onto the seat belt that was strapped around him and the other held onto the door, hanging on for dear life, “If you want to get me hot and bothered, making me freak out in a speeding car isn't it, Frank.”

“Relax,” Frank soothed, reaching over to run his hand a little higher up his thigh than usual, “We will be home in no time.”  
  
“Or we could get home in one piece?” 

~

“Ry- Babe…” Frank whined, turning to look at Ryan behind him who was walking into the house at what felt like a snail’s pace. Frank couldn’t complain. Sex was sex and Frank was getting it eventually. He didn’t care about the ‘where’ only the ‘who’ or ‘how’ or ‘when’.

And ‘when’ seemed like it was taking forever to come to fruition. Ryan stood in the middle of the kitchen, more than likely scrolling through the pictures of his food he had taken earlier, looking at the likes and comments.

“What?” Ryan looked up from his phone as he set it down on the counter, glancing once at the screen before he walked over to the fridge to stow his leftovers away. He closed the door and looked at Frank, “What?”

“You’re taking forever…” Frank groaned unhappily as Ryan shrugged his jacket off and hung it over the back of one of the chairs- a habit when he was planning to wear the jacket the next day.

“'M not,” Ryan muttered simply, walking past Frank and out of the living room, into the hallway. Frank stared after his boyfriend longingly, whimpering, his voice ringing in Frank’s head, “You coming?”

“God, I hope so,” Frank muttered under his breath as he trotted after Ryan to the bedroom, scampering in to see Ryan at the mirror in the en-suite bathroom. He was humming to himself, plying toothpaste onto his green toothbrush. Frank stifled a groan as Ryan began brushing, looking at himself in the reflection, a hand resting on the edge of the basin. Frank stood in the doorway, the bubbles of lust knotting his insides.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Frank stated simply, folding his arms when Ryan glanced at him. A frown grew in his dark brows as he continued scrubbing his teeth leisurely, an arm resting behind his back. Ryan held up a finger, turning on the faucet before he bent down, spitting the foam into the basin before rinsing his mouth and wiping it on the nearby towel.

“What?”

“First, you tell me you want an early night and then you take your sweet-ass time getting there.” Frank pouted and Ryan smiled slightly.

“Well, it wasn’t intentional.” Ryan walked into the bedroom and to their closet, turning to Frank, “But I haven’t changed my mind, sweetheart.”

“Thank God,” Frank muttered as he kicked off his shoes and bent down, pulling off his socks to stuff them into his black sneakers. Frank unfastened his old white belt, leaving it in the loops of his jeans as he unfastened the faded charcoal denim and pushed them down, watching them pool to his ankles. He bent down, picking his jeans up when he looked up at Ryan, who was standing there, biting on his lip, “What?” Frank frowned and Ryan merely smiled again and bent down, pulling off his brown loafers and his socks with a small hum, “Babe? What?”

“Stop asking so many questions.” Ryan straightened up and shrugged out of his flimsy white-linen shirt. He opened the closet and tossed the shirt into the laundry hamper. Frank muttered softly under his breath as he unbuttoned his black shirt, watching Ryan tug on his many necklaces and leather tags, pulling them up over his head to put them away in the small box he had on his bedside table. 

Frank tugged at the cuffs of his shirt, unrolling the sleeves roughly before he pulled the shirt off, bundling it up and chucking it into the basket. Ryan tugged his striped t-shirt off over his head and put it in the wash along with his burgundy jeans, his gaze now on Frank. Frank sucked in a breath as he pulled his white t-shirt off, dropping it on the ground before he walked up to Ryan, his hands on Ryan’s hips, squeezing softly.

“Frank?”

“What?” Frank frowned and Ryan bit his lip, his eyes glancing between boyfriend and floor and Frank closed his eyes, realizing that Ryan was now eyeing the t-shirt he had cast on the ground and not in the basket, “Dude, you’re not serious.”

“Please?” Ryan eyed Frank uneasily and Frank sighed softly, nodding as he turned and walked back to his t-shirt, “And- And brush your teeth maybe?”

Frank put his shirt in the laundry and turned to look at Ryan, who was now walking to his side of the bed, “Is my breath bad? I grabbed a mint from the bowl.”

“You need to brush your teeth every night, Frank,” Ryan stated and Frank shrugged and walked over to the bed, climbing onto it from the bottom, slipping between Ryan’s legs.

“Is that really what you want, babe?” Frank asked, hovering over Ryan, who looked up with wide, brown eyes.

“O- Oh…” Ryan whispered breathlessly, “No.”

“That’s what I thought,” Frank muttered as he leaned down, his lips on Ryan’s in a tender kiss, his insides thrumming at the prospect of finally having sex with his boyfriend after a millennium. Frank scolded himself, frowning as he deepened the kiss, his hands slowly running down over Ryan’s chest, pushing him back slightly.

“W- Wait,” Ryan whispered against Frank’s lips, making him whimper, his hands digging into Ryan’s hips, letting out a shaky breath.

“What, babe?” Frank asked softly and Ryan put his hands on Frank’s shoulders, turning them around so that Frank was facing away from the bed, making him frown.

“I uh- I wanna…” Ryan cleared his throat slightly, making Frank tilt his head to the side curiously.

“You wanna what?” Frank smiled, knowing it took a little coaxing for Ryan to say anything that constituted lewd, and even then it wasn’t overly obscene for a normal person.

“I wanna try something different.” Ryan smiled and Frank felt his whole body suddenly freeze up and backtrack as though he had heard wrong. He looked into Ryan’s eyes and saw just how sheepish he had become.

“What something?” Frank asked and Ryan bit his lip, clearing his throat as he gestured to the bed. Frank looked at Ryan, his heart thumping against his ribs like a caged cricket in a box, “You- You want me to lay down, babe?”

“No, you…” Ryan went pink again, “Sit.”

“Wha? Right here?” Frank asked as he sat down on the end of the bed tentatively. He looked up at Ryan, who nodded. 

“I’ll just…” Ryan wandered over to Frank’s bedside drawer, opening it to grab a condom and lube despite both he and Frank both being clean and tested, Ryan had a sense of paranoia when it came to sex. And Frank was fine with it. 

Ryan wandered back over, dropping the two items on the bed beside Frank, who sucked in a breath, leaning forward to place kisses to Ryan’s pale stomach. He heard Ryan suck in a soft breath and he whimpered, his teeth raking over Ryan’s hip, nipping at the elastic of his briefs before he tugged on them. Ryan’s hands clenched as Frank carefully pulled Ryan’s underwear down, letting the tight maroon material fall as his lips carried on, edging their way towards Ryan’s dick, wrapping a hand around him. Ryan managed a small ‘oh’ at the touch and Frank smirked to himself, his mouth now pressed against Ryan’s dick when the latter moved away. Frank frowned and looked up to see Ryan’s face uneasy.

“What?”

“Not that.” Ryan whispered and Frank nodded. Of course, Frank felt so silly for forgetting that Ryan didn’t want a blowjob now; Ryan would want to kiss Frank and hated the thought of those two things being in the same timezone. 

Sure, Ryan did like the occasional blowjob from Frank, and Frank loved giving head, but it was never the other way around. Ryan was not a fan of oral, having explained that his brain always reminded him that the dick he was about to put in his mouth had already been in his ass and he couldn’t stomach it no matter how many showers Frank took. Maybe to anyone else it sounded a bit selfish but Frank was giving and getting dick either way and it made him happy. Frank merely smiled at Ryan’s uneasy face, wrapping a hand around Ryan to stroke him.

“So, is this 'something different' that we’re on the end of the bed or what?” Frank asked and Ryan nodded, making him smile. He made a mental note that it was something new, not different. He was certainly not about to nitpick with the promise of dick being so close, “I have no complaints.”

“Lay down…” Ryan whispered and Frank obeyed, leaning back on his elbows, toes digging into the bedroom carpet. Ryan reached down and tucked his fingers into Frank’s boxers. Frank lifted his hips up, watching Ryan slide his scratchy boxers down over his dick and down passed his knees. Frank smirked as he held a hand out to Ryan, easing his boyfriend down on top of him. Ryan sitting comfortably, straddling Frank’s thighs with his own.

“You want me to lay _you_ down, babe?” Frank asked with a smile and Ryan let go of Frank’s hand. He leaned down over his boyfriend, their faces inches apart, Ryan’s thick curls casting a dark theatre-curtain around their faces.

“No.” Ryan whispered and Frank frowned, “I want it like this.”

“Like-” Frank was cut off by a loud internal scream of realization akin to that in a cartoon with his mouth open comically wide, “You wanna be on top?”

“Is that okay?” Ryan asked and Frank nodded dumbly, his head up and downing like a bobble-figure in an offroad Jeep.

Hell yes, it was so okay. Frank hardly ever got to have Ryan on top, like one out of ten times at the most. And Frank only got doggy-style on his birthday, unless Ryan was drunk- which was an even lesser occurrence. Frank couldn’t even remember the last time they had had sex like this. He could barely remember the last time they had had sex in general. Not that it was any different from the other times. It was almost always the same thing of Ryan brushing his teeth, getting undressed and then they’d have sex on Frank’s side of the bed with Frank on top.

Oh, but this was double-different, this was at the foot of the bed, this was Ryan on top and this all had Frank completely thrown for a loop. Ryan leaned down, their lips latching in a tender but lengthy kiss.

One of Frank’s favorite things that he got from Ryan were the kisses, those were always in abundance whenever he wanted. It didn't matter what either of them were doing. Frank took full advantage of it, getting his fill of kisses whenever he could from Ryan. The kisses always had butterflies rear up in Frank’s stomach, always had his chest inflate, his heart skip, oftentimes reminding him of the love they had in school. It was most likely the reason Frank loved them so much, because it reminded him of what used to be, and it kept Frank going.

Frank thread his hand into Ryan’s curls, untying the autumn-colored band he wore around his forehead, pulling it off carefully. He couldn't help tugging on Ryan’s hair in the process, hearing the latter moan quietly. Frank frowned at the sound, whimpering as he deepened the kiss, his tongue toying with Ryan's perfect pout. Frank lifted his hips up with a small and silent plea.

“Ry?” Frank asked softly and his boyfriend moved away, nibbling on Frank’s pierced lip, eliciting a moan as the tiny action had a sharp tingle effect in Frank’s stomach.

“Hmm?” Ryan replied, his hips pressed down against Frank’s slowly, making Frank groan and fall back down onto the bed from his wobbling elbows.

“Sin- Since we’re... Doing new things…” Frank swallowed, his breathing quickened in an almost pant, “I- Wouldya…”

Ryan stared at Frank with a small frown in his brows and Frank bit on his lip, tonguing at his lip ring before he ran it slightly on his bottom lip and looked down at his dick, lifting his hips up as an indication of what he wanted. Ryan’s damn mouth is what he wanted. And he was hoping Ryan was in a pragmatic mood, hoping Ryan would throw caution to the wind and suck him off. Ryan looked down at Frank’s lap and back up before pursing his lips.

“Frank I- You know I don’t like it.” Ryan eyed hum, “And besides… Your recent, uh… Addition to your body jewelry isn’t going to help.”

Frank bit his lip. Perfect. He looked down at the frenum piercing he had gotten about four months prior, he eyed the simple steel bar pierced through the skin on the underside of his dick. Frank looked up at Ryan again with a frown, “I didn’t know you hated it.”

“I don’t.” Ryan muttered, “I just don’t like.. Doing it. I know you know that.” Ryan sat up as he ran his hands over Frank’s chest.

“I just figured, I mean you’re doing something new…” Frank shrugged, running a hand down over Ryan’s dick slowly, “You sure you don’t want me to?”

“I don’t want your mouth on my dick, sweetheart.” Ryan smiled, his hips moving as he rutted into Frank’s hand sinuously.

“And if I want to?”

“Why would you want to…” Ryan whispered, mortified, and Frank put his hand on the back of Ryan’s neck. He pulled him down, kissing him, cutting his tangent off before it began again. Ryan let out a small, protesting whimper but melted into the kiss, his tongue flitted in a way that had Frank moaning.

“Just… Want you.” Frank breathed out and Ryan nodded, rolling his hips down as Frank lifted up, reveling in just how good it felt to have Ryan pressed naked against him. Ryan pulled away and sat up, grabbing the foil packet from the bed before he frowned, tearing it open. He pulled the condom out and shuffled slowly down over Frank’s thighs.

Frank bit his lip, “You- Don’t you wanna prep first, babe?” 

“Hold your horses.” Ryan looked at Frank with a grin, “I know what I’m doing.”

“I’d rather you hold my horses instead.” Frank shot back nonchalantly, giving him a mischievous glance from under his lashes.

“Don’t be disgusting.” 

“Right now is the perfect time to be disgusting.” Frank countered as Ryan wrapped a hand around Frank’s dick, stroking him slowly. Frank cried out at the touch, his head back on the bed. He curled his hand, gripping the side of the mattress in his fist, lifting his hips up. Ryan sat back up on Frank and handed him the half-used bottle of lube with a smile, his cheeks flushed. Frank unscrewed the bottle, squirting some of the clear slick onto his fingers. He dropped the bottle beside him and Ryan eyed it, “If you try and close that right now, I’m going in unprepped.” 

Frank eyed Ryan, who pursed his lips and grabbed the bottle of lube before he leaned down, his lips on Frank’s neck. Frank sucked in a breath, whimpering as Ryan’s lips left a trail of hot kisses. The hair on Frank’s neck and arms rose up at the warmth. Frank’s hand slid down over Ryan’s side, his fingers slowly pressing against Ryan’s entrance. Frank’s brows knitted together as he slipped a finger in slowly, groaning at the warmth and tightness. He readjusted, his other hand knotted in Ryan’s chestnut curls as he slid his finger in and out, feeling Ryan’s hips pushing against him. Ryan let out a small moan as Frank carefully slipped in his second finger, twisting his hand as he pumped in and out deliberately, gradually stretching.

“Shit…” Ryan whispered softly, the gasp that left his voice only made Frank quicken. It made him pick up what he was doing, parting his fingers as he pushed them into Ryan over and over. Ryan was moaning against the heated skin of Frank’s throat, his hips jerking against Frank’s hand. Frank looked at Ryan as he sat up, groaning at the changing angle of Frank’s fingers inside of him. Ryan ran a hand over his forehead before he grabbed the condom and rolled it on Frank's length with shaky fingers.

The feel of Ryan’s hand on him, a tight ring of fingers as Frank moaned, lifting his hips up to meet the warm touch. Frank wasn’t always a huge fan of condoms in any case, he said it always made everything artificial feeling, like there was a barrier between them. But Ryan always insisted, and at first, Frank was offended because why would he feel the need to if they had only ever been with each other. Frank felt as though Ryan didn’t trust him. It was later on when Ryan admitted it was more of a small fear to him of not using one in general and Frank made sure to get over himself.

And it was six years down the line now and he was definitely over it considering just how much he loved sex and how petty his latex issue seemed.

Frank let out a gasping breath, being pulled from his reverie as Ryan leaned over him, mouth on his as both hands lay in rest on the mattress on either side of Frank’s head. Frank’s hand had yet to stop its movements, had yet to stop fingering Ryan like an obscene rhythm Frank could keep up all day. Frank slowly pulled his fingers out and wiped them haphazardly on the bed before wrapping his hand around his dick, the other hand going to Ryan’s hip, lining him up. Frank let out a whimper as he lifted his hips up a bit, feeling Ryan lower himself down, meeting Frank’s dick with a hard pressure. Frank couldn’t help the groan in his throat as his fingers dug into Ryan’s skin, pulling the latter down, feeling him sink.

“O-Oh fuck.” Frank moaned out, his head tilted back against the mattress, eyes squeezed shut as the warmth of Ryan’s insides wrapped around the head of his dick. Frank could feel the goosebumps rise up over his skin, his brain screaming out as all of him suddenly realized what was going on. He was finally… finally having sex again. Two weeks might not seem like a long time but for Frank, it was fucking millennia.

Ryan froze for a moment, panting through his soft cherry lips; lips that Frank had been eyeing. His hand slid from Ryan’s hip to his jaw, gripping it as he kissed him heatedly, moaning into Ryan’s mouth as their tongues caressed. Frank could feel Ryan sit further down on him, sliding slick until his pale ass was flush with Frank’s upper thighs, the soft slap of skin on skin had them both moaning quietly against each other.

“Fuck.” Frank could feel small clenches of Ryan around him and every single minute tightening made him realize just how close to bursting he already was; how tightly wound he already had been, how knotted his insides had become in these two weeks, and just how short it would be. Ryan let out a small gasp, running a hand through his curls as he sat up carefully and looked down at Frank, shuddering at the way Frank’s dick felt inside of him. Frank looked up at his boyfriend, his chest swelling a fraction as his heart thrummed like a metronome on acid in his chest, his skin sparking with lust-fuelled fire. Ryan let out a small groan as his hips stirred, his fluid hips like a river, the motions from years of dancing that Frank could watch for hours. He stared at Ryan’s hips as the latter rocked back and forth.

Frank’s hands were on Ryan’s pelvic bones now, edging him on, trying to get him to go all the more faster. Frank bit on his bottom lip before parting them, managing to exhale a short breath as he lifted his hips, feet digging further into the rough carpet. He looked up at Ryan, whimpering at just how gorgeous he looked in a wave of pleasure, his body writhing and his head back, perfect brows knitted.

“Shit,” Frank whispered brokenly, the already tight knots pulling from every angle under his skin, making his toes curl and his thighs shake. And Frank realized how close he already was, how bad it would seem that they had just started and he was almost at tipping point. He couldn’t help his body’s reaction, he couldn’t help just how good it felt, but he sure as hell could try and help holding himself off.

He dug his hands into Ryan’s hip bones, stilling him, feeling Ryan sit flush with him, rolling his hips in slow and grinding circles. Frank closed his eyes again, his hands reaching back to fist into Ryan’s hair on either side of his head. He held Ryan’s hands and tugged, pulling Ryan down against him, skin on skin. Frank felt his stomach churn at how good it felt to have Ryan inadvertently holding him down against the bed. The feeling of being pressed down into the bed by Ryan only made it worse, only added to the striking pleasured coil in his lower gut. He let go, a hand on Ryan’s lower back, the other in his hair as they kissed again, lips coated in saliva, tongues fervent and pressing.

Frank frowned as he tried to hold off, pressing his hand down on Ryan before the other slid between them. Ryan let out a small mewl, one of the first sounds he had made yet, as Frank ran his palm over Ryan’s achingly hard dick. Ryan making any noise was a rarity, and Frank also knew it had nothing to do with how well he was doing at pleasing him. Ryan wasn’t a vocalizer in bed, he just didn’t always make it known that way. Ryan would let Frank know in other ways, physical ways. Digging nails, lifted hips, furrowed brows, and gritted teeth were the things that had Frank reeling.

And right now Frank had checked every box, hell, he had even surpassed them all with Ryan’s flustered cheeks and busy hands. Oh, Frank knew that fidgeting hands was Ryan’s way of telling Frank he was doing something way better than ‘good’. When Ryan would try and paw at every inch of Frank’s skin, knead and dig and caress as quickly as possible, Frank could almost see the top of Ryan’s head blow off.

Frank let out a whimper as Ryan lifted himself up a bit more, hands fisted in the sheets as Frank wrapped his hand around Ryan’s dick and stroked him off quickly. Ryan let out a shaky breath, biceps trembling as his hips stuttered, riding him slowly and deliberately, taking in every inch over and over. Frank ran his hand down Ryan’s dick and back up, thumbing at the slit, his hand slick with dripping precome. He let out a moan, looking up into Ryan’s eyes, looking into blown-out pupils that had him realizing another new thing.

The lights were on. Frank took Ryan in again as though not believing he could properly make out his boyfriend on top of him. Ryan had left the lights on. Was it on purpose? An accident? Did Ryan just get so caught up in Frank that he didn’t even realize the lights were on? Did he know and do it on purpose, another semi-new thing to add to the already fresh melange of things Ryan with which had bombarded Frank?

“Ry- Wait…” Frank groaned out, letting out a small panted breath as he ran his hand from Ryan’s dick all the way up his stomach and chest to hold his shoulder, “Fuck.”

Ryan let out a small, breathy whimper in reply and lifted himself up before sliding back down, the sudden motion had Frank crying out and lifting his hips, mouth in a parted ‘o’ as Ryan carried on. Ryan wasn’t listening to Frank this time, disregarding that Frank was trying to get him to slow down, trying to savor their intimacy just in case it would be another who-knows-how-long celibacy stint. Not this time. Ryan kept going, picking up his pace by only a fraction, his one hand on Frank’s knees behind him, squeezing, holding himself up shakily as the other hand was now entwined with Frank’s to keep himself upright.

“Ry- Baby I- I’m…” Frank groaned out, now on his tippy-toes on the carpet for leverage. His thighs threatening to cramp up, his hips lifted up again as his body climbed evermore higher towards its peak. Ryan let out a small moan, his body jerking when Frank moved, obviously hitting the right spot. Frank frowned in concentration, feeling a light sheen of sweat on his skin as he did his best to hold off for more than five minutes.

God, he had hoped it had been longer than that. Surely it was. Their usual sex sessions lasted a half an hour minus foreplay and Frank wished he’d at least be nearing that mark. He didn’t want to disappoint and give Ryan all the more reason to hold off again. No, definitely not. Frank let out a shaky breath, a high pitched keening in his throat as he closed his eyes again, white and blue creeping into the edges of his vision as he squeezed. All he could focus on was Ryan, all of Ryan, every single sinew and pore, and every movement as he bounced more gracefully than a normal human should in the throes of passion. 

Frank felt his skin all but cave in over his body before the rest of him exploded in heated waves of an intense orgasm. He moaned out in short bursts, coming heavily as he held on to Ryan, pushing and pulling the latter up and down on his dick, riding out his orgasm as he lifted his body up. He panted loudly, whining as the coils of static shot through his body like scurrying mice in his veins. Frank trembled as he felt Ryan riding and grinding down on him, his far-too-short orgasm already worked its way into overstimulation. He let out a whimper as he pulled Ryan down, rolling him onto the bed. Ryan let out a grunt and a small whimper, biting his lip as Frank fumbled with the condom, tugging it off and chucking it aside. Frank’s lips were on Ryan’s in an instant, sighing out at the cool air on his dick, moaning as he ran his hand over Ryan’s hip.

“Babe?” Frank whispered and Ryan looked at him, “I… I really wanna suck you off.”

Ryan bit his lip, “Frank, sweetheart.”

“Please…” Frank swallowed softly and Ryan pulled him closer, licking his bottom lip before kissing him, “Taking that as a 'no'.”

Frank held himself up over Ryan, hovering as he attacked Ryan’s neck in kisses, the feel of Ryan’s lips on his had his thoughts flying from his skull in an instant, his free hand wrapping around Ryan’s dick. Ryan gasped out quietly, lifting his hips up as a hand gripped the sheets and the other dug itself into Frank’s bicep. Frank opened his eyes, splattering wet kisses to Ryan’s face as he pumped him quickly, tugging on Ryan’s bottom lip with his teeth. Frank tightened his grip, stroking a ring around Ryan’s dick with two fingers as the other three ran down over Ryan’s balls, fondling slowly in a way he knew Ryan liked.

Ryan bit down on his lip, his hand pawing at Frank’s arm, raking perfectly cut nails over his inked skin. Frank’s fingers slid down, teasing at Ryan’s slick asshole, humming to himself at just how good he knew it was. Ryan’s grip moved to Frank’s shoulder as Frank’s own hand wrapped itself around Ryan’s dick again, stroking him with a stubborn amount of ardor, wanting so badly to see Ryan coming undone. 

And he didn’t have to wait much longer, he could tell when Ryan was close, his body would tremble as though he was being wound up like a toy. Ryan’s toes curled, his back arched, his head back into the mattress, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down under his alabaster skin. Frank’s other arm adjusted as he moved, hovering over Ryan, pressing his lips to Ryan’s forehead as he tilted his arm, pumping at a different speed.

Frank’s arm was taut and cramping as he jerked Ryan off, knowing he wasn’t about to stop with Ryan so close. Ryan let out a small sob-sounding whimper as he came, lips rolled between his teeth as he panted through his nose, both hands now kneading and pawing at Frank and himself and the sheets. Frank glanced down, watching Ryan’s body jerk and spasm as he came on himself in warm, white spurts.

Frank let out a groan, kissing Ryan roughly, tongue invading his mouth as he stroked him out through his wave of ecstasy. Ryan wrapped a hand around Frank, stopping him as his body lurched slightly. Frank let go, wiping his hand on the bedspread as he looked down at Ryan, lowering himself down onto the bed. Ryan smiled at Frank as the latter reached out to hold him, but Ryan was already sitting up. There was a small rat’s nest in his curls at the back of his hair from his head moving back and forth on the bed and it made Frank smile proudly.

Frank frowned as Ryan got up and grabbed the condom, tying it before he chucked it in the bin and walked across to the en-suite bathroom. Frank turned onto his other side and looked at Ryan, who was wiping himself off with a wet-wipe. Frank raised an eyebrow, “Where’d you go?” he croaked, his voice cracking after the prolonged silence.

“Here,” Ryan replied dryly as he looked at himself in the mirror and grabbed his toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste from the cabinet.

“Again?” Frank frowned and Ryan nodded as he squeezed a blob onto the white bristles, running it under the faucet before he began brushing his teeth yet again. Frank watched him, smiling slightly with his legs still somewhat off of the bed, arm under his head as Ryan bent down to spit. Frank swallowed at the sight, cursing his perverted brain for making something as simple as toothpaste a turn-on.

Ryan straightened up, wiping his mouth and stowing his brush away, “You should brush your teeth, too.”

“I’m comfy…” Frank replied with an obnoxious whine. Ryan put his hands on his hips expectantly, making Frank groan and roll off of the bed, trying to hide his smile under a facade of annoyance. He padded into the bathroom and grabbed his own toothbrush, setting it up with the blue minty paste before he began brushing his teeth.

He looked at Ryan in the mirror, looking at the satisfied smile on his boyfriend’s face. Frank rolled his eyes as Ryan leaned in, resting his head on Frank’s shoulder, eyes closed in contentment. Frank moved, wrapping an arm around Ryan, giving his ass a squeeze, hearing Ryan yelp softly and jerk away at the sudden touch, a shy smile on his face as Frank grinned around his toothbrush.

“That was different…” Ryan commented as Frank bent down to spit, nodding as he rinsed his mouth out with water.

“You bet,” Frank replied as he stood up, wiping his mouth on the hand towel at his side.

“It’s a nice change once in a while, right?” Ryan asked and Frank nodded eagerly, watching as Ryan waltzed passed him into the bedroom again. Frank peered at Ryan with a smirk, eyes on his ass before he reminded himself to follow.

“We cuddle now, right?” Frank asked as Ryan pulled down his side of the bed and went to grab his pajamas.

“Want to cuddle?”

“When don’t I?” Frank asked as he climbed into the bed fully naked, watching Ryan get dressed into his plaid pajama bottoms and one of Frank’s old, paint-covered band t-shirts. Ryan walked back to the bed and climbed in, curling up under the sheets, head on Frank’s chest as the latter wrapped an arm around him, squeezing him close.

“You should work on your interview soon,” Ryan muttered and Frank merely nodded, grabbing the TV remote from his bedside table.

“Don’t you worry about that now. Just love me.”


	4. A Little Less Vanilla, A Little More Aerated Cream

“Can I help you at all?”

Frank hadn’t realized that he had been standing for so long in the aisle. It had been about an hour before he finished his shift he had received a text from Ryan who had asked him to pick up milk. That was it, literally all they needed; they had finished the last of the milk in their coffee this morning. He wanted to drink coffee over the weekend after all.

He had genuinely forgotten where he was for at least five minutes. The bright lights, soft music overhead, and the sounds of metal carts were all droned out of his brain when he got into the dairy aisle. He was still reeling from what had happened on Tuesday. He was still cresting his high, riding his tantric wave and in his gut, he felt like there was some sort of change that was happening in his relationship.

Ryan had been different. Ryan had mixed it up to the point that Frank hadn’t been able to wipe the nearly-permanent grin from his face. Ryan had been so adventurous and chose to go in the complete opposite direction of what they usually did. As much as Frank loved sex, he had to admit that he found it dull to always be on top. It was always him on top, always on his side of the bed, always doing all of the work for the two of them. He didn’t mind too much; sex was sex either way.

He had been on the highest hope since Tuesday, he had been so hopeful all week that there would be a definite change. It had gotten so bad that Frank had completely lost himself in the middle of the aisle when he saw something. He stopped and did a small backtrack, milk in one hand. He stared at the small row of tinned dairy and wondered if he should actually get it. Frank liked to think of himself as a pretty adventurous kind of guy with a head full of thoughts. They were only ideas and had remained that way for so long because he knew that Ryan would find his suggestions horrifying and perverted, but still. Maybe Ryan was trying to put a spark back into their relationship.

Frank didn’t even realize that he had been standing long enough for his knees to feel stiff from the lack of movement. It was the whipped cream that had caught his attention. The idea had hit him so suddenly that he had almost felt a twinge of whiplash. The potential for Ryan to be into this was slight but definitely not impossible. Spicing up their sex life with something new, that’s for sure. Food and sex. It had evolved into a monstrosity of absolute genius in Frank’s brain. Then he had been thrown from the tracks by a sudden female voice asking him if he needed help.

“Uh,” Frank stuttered out, trying not to blush because his mind was awash with impure thoughts about which no one else needed to know. He blinked at her, wondering what the fuck he was going to say.

“Sir?”

“I-I think I’m good.”

The assistant asked, “You sure?”

“I’m good, dude, honestly.” Frank smiled nervously at the assistant, ignoring the way she was watching him, chewing gum with hair scraped back into a bun, purple lipstick smiling at him. Her smile made him more nervous as he reached out and grabbed a can. He stuffed it under his arm, trying to hide the blush that had formed on his face before he walked off. He was thankful that no one could read his mind. It wasn’t so obvious at least, it wasn’t like he had picked up a box of condoms or anything.

He got back into his car, putting the items in his shoulder bag on the passenger seat. Frank wondered how he could bring it up to Ryan as he started the car, pulling out of the parking space before driving off. He knew that he couldn’t just surprise Ryan with it. Ryan wasn’t one for surprises, even though this was going to be a surprise no matter how Frank approached it. It hadn’t been discussed. It wasn’t exactly like Ryan had texted him earlier, saying “ _Buy some whipped cream so you can eat it off my body.”_ A little less vanilla. That was what Frank was hoping for.

It was terrifying and riveting at the same time and he felt like he was going to pee a little bit. If Ryan was broadening his horizons with sex, then maybe he would be okay with it. That was what Frank kept telling himself, even as he pulled the car up into their driveway. He exhaled, killing the engine and wished himself luck because he didn’t know how it would end but a little luck never hurt anyone.

“Hey babe,” Frank called out as he entered the house, dropping his keys into the bowl before he shut the door behind him, “I’m home.”

“Hi!” Ryan sang out from the kitchen, or so Frank assumed from the direction of Ryan's melodic voice. He turned and wandered into the kitchen, he looked to see Ryan standing there by the counter with a smile on his face. Frank smiled back at Ryan while he dropped his small shoulder bag on the table. He went over to kiss Ryan on the cheek, “You took your time.”

Frank frowned at the comment, “What do you mean?”

“Thought you would have been back sooner,” Ryan commented, shrugging, “It’s already past six.”  
  


“So?” Frank shrugged as well, “It was Friday and there were queues.”  
  


“Okay.” Ryan nodded, clearly believing Frank’s tiny lie. He watched Frank for a moment as Frank opened the door, putting it in the fridge while his other hand held tightly onto his bag, concealing what was still in there, “Good day at work?”  
  


“Yeah.” Frank breathed out his answer, uncaring about work. His mind was on one track and that track definitely didn’t involve talking about work, “S’good day, dude.”

“Good.” Ryan smiled happily and Frank eyed his partner, seeing the brown eyes he loved so much were practically sparkling with glee, “Glad you had a good day.”

Frank could sense that something was going on with Ryan. He quirked an eyebrow at him, trying to figure out why he seemed in such a chirpy mood, “What?”

“What?” Ryan mimicked, still smirking, folding his arms across his chest, leaning back against the counter with one skinny ankle crossed over the other in a lazy fashion.

“You just look…” Frank started, trying to find the right words in his head to say to Ryan, try and work him out, but he couldn’t find the right words. Frank brushed it aside for a moment, hand still holding onto his bag which he was attempting to hide by his side, changing the subject, “It doesn’t matter. I, uh, I got something from the store…”

“Oh?” Ryan said curiously, eyes dropping to the leather shoulder bag, “What did you get? We didn’t need anything else.”

“I know,” Frank said, feeling himself getting nervous, “I’ve got something to show you that… I thought we could do…”

“Hang on.” Ryan stopped Frank midway through, “I was going to tell you later, but I can’t wait any longer. I’m sorry.” Ryan was clearly excited, Frank could tell. It wasn’t like Ryan to interrupt, so he just nodded at his boyfriend, giving him the go-ahead to say his piece first.

“What’s up?”

“So, I spoke to Brendon today,” Ryan started, practically smiling from ear to ear while he carried on, “I told him what you told me. He then went and passed it on and… Frank, sweetheart, I got you an interview.”

“Dude, are you serious?” Frank stuttered out in disbelief, his eyes widening. He had struggled at work trying to think of anyone at all that would actually be willing to spend a short amount of time talking to him. Frank had hoped that he wasn’t going to fail.

“Yeah.” Ryan nodded quickly, “So, I got you an interview with Gerard Way. He’s gonna let Brendon know when he’s free and then he will let me know and then… Yeah, you go and do your thing with him.”

“That’s fantastic!” Frank beamed, his brain not quite having the information sink in yet. He was way too preoccupied, “So uh… My thing.”  
  


“Yes?”

“I got something at the store…” Frank repeated, pulling his bag into view, digging his hand in shakily. He pulled a can of whipped cream out for his lover, holding it and showing it to Ryan. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to say how he wanted to use it; Ryan should have pegged what he wanted to do with it, especially with the way Frank was eyeing him up.

But of course, Ryan didn’t get it. He was looking at the can and looking at Frank over and over again with both brows furrowed. He put his hands on his hips as he leaned in to read the Cool Whip label. He bit his lip and Frank could tell he was clearly trying to figure it out, “So like… Are we making a dessert or something?”

“I guess you could call it that, yeah.” Frank chuckled, knowing that Ryan hadn’t got it straight away. It didn't help that with the way Frank's head was right now, he would have happily have had dessert before his dinner.

“But,” Ryan stopped for a second, shifting his weight as he straightened up away from the tin, “We haven’t even had dinner yet. I was planning on making that stir-fry we had last month with the chilies and the-”

“Let's skip dinner.” Frank offered, taking a step closer to Ryan, hoping that he was getting the gist of what he was saying.

Ryan looked like he wanted to protest but Frank stopped him with a hand on his hip, pushing him against the counter as lips locked and Frank kissed him. He sighed into the kiss, setting the can down on the counter so he had another free hand. He deepened the kiss, his free hand getting into Ryan's curly hair. Frank pressed himself against Ryan, groaning into the kiss when Ryan softened up a little bit. One hand rested on Frank's arm, the other gripping the counter against which he was leaning. Ryan's breathing faltered when Frank rubbed up against him, caressing in just the right way that he knew would make Ryan melt. This was a first. Unscheduled sex. This really hadn’t happened in God knows how long, but Ryan seemed up for it. His teeth grazed Frank's bottom lip and Frank felt like this was actually about to happen.

Fuck going upstairs; here would do just as good if not better. It meant that it wouldn’t be the same regimented sex that would always happen on Frank's side of the bed. But Ryan pushed Frank away for a second, catching his breath back as he panted, flushed from the impromptu moment of passion that Frank had started. His hand rested on Frank's chest, holding him back despite his fingers gripping Frank’s shirt. Ryan said two words that made Frank feel like he was internally collapsing.

“Not yet.”

“Dude, really?” Frank asked with a sudden surge of annoyance, wondering why the fuck Ryan had just gone with it in the first place. He had just brushed Frank away, moving from where Frank had had him pinned, going about his business like he hadn’t just been a complete dick-tease, “Are you being serious? Not yet?”

“I haven’t done the dishes yet,” Ryan commented, making Frank internally groan, “We haven’t even had dinner yet-”  
  
“So? Mix it up a little.”

“But I have stuff to do before we do anything like that.” Ryan pointed out, his back to Frank as he continued slicing a red pepper.

“Fine.” Frank threw his hands up in the air, “Just, whatever. Do what you’ve gotta do.”

“That’s not me saying ‘no’,” Ryan looked at Frank over his shoulder with a glint in his eye, “Just… Later.”

“Really?” Frank stuttered out, surprised. Unscheduled sex was usually a ‘no’ for Ryan, but he nodded at Frank. The small tug to his lips made Frank’s pissed off, hard-up mood just wash away like water on Teflon. Later could not come sooner. He knew it wouldn’t be long until Ryan said that he was ready to go to bed, but until then, Frank just waited as patiently as possible. There was a part of him still hoping that Ryan would be up for the one thing that he had ended up putting away, waiting until _later_ to try again with it.


	5. Frank Iero was No Hercules When it Came to Sexual Withdrawal

Frank was sitting in the kitchen at the small table with his elbows on the wooden surface. His hands were steepled in front of his face and he stared wide-eyed at the tin of whipped cream as though he were in a stand-off. Ryan had already gone upstairs, likely already having showered and gotten into bed. And probably reading, too. Ryan was probably wondering where he was, considering just how fresh Frank had gotten with him earlier. He sighed nervously and got up, grabbing the can from the table as he passed by. He walked up the stairs slowly, his heart racing in his chest.

“Are you coming to bed?” Ryan called out as Frank got to the landing and stood there for a moment, staring at the bedroom door. Frank walked into the room and stood at the doorway, smiling when he saw Ryan sitting up in bed with his book in his lap. Ryan folded the corner of the page and set the book down on his bedside table.

“I’m coming, don’t you worry,” Frank told him as he walked over to his side of the bed and sat down before he carefully set the tin down on the floor. He added with a throat clear, “At least I hope I’m gonna be coming.”

“You're disgusting.” Ryan screwed up his nose at Frank, who couldn’t help but giggle at Ryan’s face as he got into bed and slid under the covers. Ryan reached over to his lamp and switched it off, plunging them into darkness except for the dim light coming from the bathroom, “Why do you have to be so crude?”

“Dude, what?” Frank shrugged like he hadn’t done anything wrong, “I’m just fooling around… Like I hope we're gonna be.”

“You’re insatiable,” Ryan shook his head, “Is that all you think about?”

“Not all the time, no.” Frank admitted, even though he knew he did end up thinking about it a lot. Wanting it. Missing it. He eyed his boyfriend, “So… Are you saying ‘no’ now?” 

Frank hoped that Ryan hadn’t changed his mind. It had been something that had played on his mind for most of the evening, looking forward to it because sex twice in one week, more rare than Ryan with a beard.

“What do you think?” Ryan asked as he gave Frank a suggestive glance that was more than enough of an answer. Frank smiled at him, turning before he twisted in the bed to face Ryan, he cupped Ryan’s cheek and pulled him closer. Their lips met in a tender kiss into which Ryan instantly melted. Frank adjusted on the bed, pulling himself even closer to Ryan, sliding his other hand around him, resting it on the small of his back. His hand slipped under the fabric, wanting to get rid of the item of clothing. Ryan got the hint, moving along with Frank, fingers going for the buttons on his silk pajama shirt. Their kiss broke for a second. Frank tugged his t-shirt over his head, pulling it off as quickly as possible, not caring about where it landed on the floor when he threw it to one side. Ryan however was a little more careful with his shirt. Frank groaned when he went to fold his shirt up, “Are you being serious? Just put it on the floor.”

“But I’m gonna put it back on.”

Frank wasn’t having it in the slightest; he rolled his eyes at the back of Ryan’s head before he grabbed the shirt and tossed it to the floor. Ryan went to protest, and the way his eyes darted, it looked like he was considering getting up to pick it up and put it away. Frank had other things on his mind that were far more important than a crumpled shirt.

Ryan genuinely looked like he was going to get up but Frank decidedly distracted him with a heated kiss. Frank gently pushed Ryan over and hovered above him. Ryan whimpered as the weight, reacting to the way Frank rolled his hips down against him. The friction making heat bubble in the pit of his stomach. Ryan’s hands held onto Frank's back, nails digging into the skin, scratching, the small action making Frank groan into the kiss. Frank propped himself up, looking down at Ryan, taking him in in the low light that was coming from the bathroom. 

Frank wished that the lights were on again like it had been last time. He wanted to see Ryan in more light than this. He really did look beautiful in the low glow that was coming from the adjoining room. The way he looked with his bottom lip pinched between his teeth, the way his hands were grippex onto Frank, holding him tightly, the way his eyes fluttered shut, and his brow furrowed as he let out a breath of a moan. Frank took him in for another moment, licking at his bottom lip, needing him more than anything. The burning want in the pit of his stomach was growing more, his erection aching, still in his pajamas pants. He ground his hips down, pressing against Ryan's own growing erection. Frank hated that there was fabric separating them, but the friction only made the coil of pleasure in Frank's gut burn hotter. Need took over everything else in his brain.

He leaned down, kissing Ryan once more, teeth grazing his bottom lip, making his breath falter. He leaned up again, shifting slightly, reaching over to the bedside drawers, grabbing a condom and lube. He dropped them onto the bedsheets before nuzzling at Ryan's neck, leaving open and wet kisses on his skin. Sucking on the pale spot under his jaw, Frank smiled against his neck when Ryan's hips stuttered against him, a small ‘oh’ left his lips, only making Frank lick and suck at his neck more. Working him up more, hoping that in the utmost heat of the moment, he would be up for what Frank had on his mind.

That was when he sat up, leaving Ryan splayed out on the bed beneath him, his legs wrapped around Frank loosely. His chest rose and fell while Frank's eyes wandered over him, taking him in with hunger in every gaze. His hands went for the elastic on Ryan's pants, pulling them down, finally freeing himself before Ryan shifted on the bed, removing his own pajama pants in the process. 

Ryan shifted on the bed, getting into his usual spot on Frank’s side, running a hand through his hair before he tossed the lube to his boyfriend. Frank didn’t catch it, letting the bottle hit the bedding because he was toying with how he was going to bring it up. Like a new kind of foreplay. If Ryan didn’t like the idea of oral then maybe he would have been up for this. Maybe, especially if he had been more adventurous lately. Frank moved on the bed, getting between Ryan's legs, smiling at him with pure lust in his eyes.

“I wanna try something…” Frank bit the inside of his cheek, holding his breath while he waited to see if Ryan would react to the news. Frank could see the wary look in his eyes as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“Yeah?” Ryan asked, his voice mixed with curiosity and nerves, a breathless shake tinting his words. Frank could sense that, even when he wrapped a hand around Ryan's length, pushing a shaky breath from him, “What’s that?”

What if Ryan said no? What if he shot him down like he always would do for blow jobs. Or even like the time Frank wanted to go down on him and eat him out. Ryan had been completely disgusted about the idea of it, not understanding why Frank would even want to put his mouth there. He leaned down, his hand searching in the dark on his side of the bed, fumbling for a moment before he found what he had brought upstairs, bringing it into view for Ryan to see.

Ryan frowned when he saw Frank holding the can of cream in his hand. He looked at the tin before looking back at Frank, still frowning, clearly not understanding why Frank was nervously gnawing on his lip.

“Wh-?” Ryan started before words failed him and he blurted out, “Why did you bring that upstairs?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Frank spoke, trying to nudge Ryan towards his epiphany. He didn’t want to have to spell it out. But this was Ryan he was throwing the question. He looked at Frank with a puzzled frown, his mouth opening to say something before he closed it again.

“You said something about making dessert…” Ryan recalled, clearly remembering their earlier moment in the kitchen, “But, you never mentioned it after dinner.”

“This _is_ after dinner,” Frank sighed and sat back on his feet, shaking his head in the low light. He drew in a breath, trying to think of a way to put the suggestion that wouldn't have Ryan freak out. He popped the cap and closed it again quietly, nervously fidgeting, “This is… This is the thing I wanna try.”

“You want to eat dessert in bed?” Ryan frowned more, folding his arms across his bare chest.

“I wanna have _you_ for dessert,” Frank said, feeling the nerves erupting in his gut like erratic butterflies. He knew he was blushing for saying that, his cheeks felt hot. Thank God Ryan had turned the light off. There was silence for a moment. Ryan didn’t say anything. Shit.

He opened his mouth to answer, but with what Frank had just said, he still looked baffled. Ryan just looked at him again, confusion noticeable in his facial features. He finally said something to break the silence, “I… I don’t understand what you want to do.”

“Well…” Frank trailed off, looking around, “So, I have this… And what I want to do is… Y’know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

Frank groaned, “Ry… Dude, I wanna like, use it on you. Like…” Frank didn’t finish explaining. Ryan's eyes went wide as Frank had just put out an idea like he was going to stick the nozzle up his ass and squirt it. He looked horrified and Frank knew that Ryan was probably taking it really out of context in his head.

“Don’t look so scared,” Frank reassured Ryan with a smile, setting the tin down on the bed, noticing how Ryan's eyes didn’t leave it for a moment until Frank spoke again. He saw Ryan watching him nervously, “I’m not gonna do anything weird with it.”

“What do you want to do with it?” Ryan asked apprehensively. Frank swallowed, realizing that Ryan was probably thinking back to all of the times that he had found Frank’s late-night browsing history. 

“I just wanna, like- Don’t look at me like that, Ry.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” Ryan shrugged slowly despite the fact that his face was projecting the world’s largest amount of disdain imaginable without actually melting entirely, “I just don’t understand why you would want to use it in bed when we are about to be intimate.”

 _About to be intimate?_ Frank wanted to punch himself in the face.

“Because I want to use it on you,” Frank explained with a sigh, “Like, spray it on you and then lick it off.”

“Why?” Ryan screwed up his nose, “That just sounds messy.”

“Dude, are you kidding me?” Frank snorted at Ryan’s absolute ridiculousness. Sex wasn’t supposed to be clean and polished. It was supposed to be messy. With sweat and saliva and everything else. Where was the harm in Frank adding to it? It wasn't even going to be that messy. Frank was more than happy to clean up as he went along, “It’s supposed to be fun. I just wanted to mix it up.”

“Well, I don’t wanna do it.” Ryan said out right. Frank's mouth opened for a second, a small noise left him.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to,” Ryan repeated curtly.

“That’s a bullshit reason, dude,” Frank shook his head, “You’re just outright saying no? You don’t even want to give it a try?”

“I don’t want to.”

“What if I want to?” Frank asked, “You wanted to be on top the other night and I didn’t say 'no' to you.”

“You never say 'no' to a different position.” Ryan shrugged simply.

“Fine, bad example,” Frank groaned, “But… Come on, babe, you even kept the light on the other night. You actually had sex with the light on. That, you haven’t done that since when we first started having sex. You got to change it up, why can’t I?”

“I didn’t mean to leave the light on the other night.” Ryan said quietly, chewing on his bottom lip, sitting up in bed while pulling his knees up to his chest, “It was just the heat of the moment. It didn’t cross my mind until, well, I didn’t realize until after.”

“A-Are you being serious?” Frank stuttered out. How could all of that have been accidental? It wasn’t like they had had sex somewhere different in the house, but the few feet of difference had had Frank's hopes raised up high on a pedestal. He ran a hand through his hair, “So, the one night where I actually got to be able to see my boyfriend in bed, it wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“And we're not using that. Ever.” Ryan pointed to the tin that Frank had set down amongst the bedding whilst they talked.

“Ryan, come on, just give it a go. Just once, dude, please.” Frank pleaded, his lips turning down in the corners.

“Frank, I don’t want to-”

“Ry please, for me. Just once.”

“I said no.” Ryan snapped, cutting him off. Frank blinked at him with his mouth hanging open. A flash of guilt ran over Ryan’s face. Frank knew that Ryan hated raising his voice, he hated snapping to get his point across. And Frank hated it almost just as much. He looked down, his cheeks flushed, “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not changing my mind. I don’t want to do it.”

“Why-”

“I just don’t want to. Just drop it, Frank, please.”

“But why?” Frank pushed, “I don’t understand why you won’t just try one thing with me?”

“I said drop it.” Ryan scowled, avoiding eye contact when he reached for his shirt, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What are you doing?” Frank frowned, watching Ryan sit up in bed and pull his shirt back on. Ryan wasn’t even looking at him, like he was shying away, covering himself up, “Are you getting dressed?”

Ryan didn’t answer. He just continued to button up his shirt before he finally looked at Frank, giving him a pointed look.

“Are you stopping?” Frank asked, astonished and dumbstruck to say the least. He watched Ryan cover himself up, even moving over onto his side of the bed while Frank remained kneeling, “Ry, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan apologised quietly, “I’m just not in the mood now.”

“Are you being serious?” Frank stammered, his eyes widening, “Dude, you can’t do this to me.”

“I’m not in the mood anymore,” He told Frank firmly as he got under the duvet, “If you hadn’t persisted with that then maybe things would be different, but you ruined it.”

“I can’t believe this,” Frank groaned irritably, “So, you’re happy to just leave me like this? You’re being selfish, dude.”

“I’m being selfish?” Ryan gasped out, shocked, “You were the one who kept pushing for that.” Ryan said, waving a hand at the cream that still sat amongst the folds of bedding.

“Please,” Frank sighed, “I don’t want to argue over this.”

“I’m not arguing, I’m just telling you how it is.”

“That I’m the selfish one,” Frank snorted out, “Yeah, sure seems like it to me.”

“Will you just drop it and get into bed?" 

“How can I drop it when _this_ won’t drop it?” Frank pointed to himself again, still achingly hard because he thought that they were going to be having sex. His dick hadn’t quite caught on to the fact that he wasn’t getting anything tonight. And even then, he was going to be grumpy as hell because he had gotten all wound up for nothing, “How can I get into bed when I know that you're going to do nothing to help me out?”

“Then don’t get into bed.” Ryan sighed, running a hand through his curls, looking more tired than ever.

“So, I can’t get into my own bed now?” Frank asked incredulously, wondering if this was going to be the moment that Ryan would tell him to just go and sleep on the sofa like he usually did when he couldn’t deal with Frank. 

“I didn’t say that,” Ryan groaned out, resting his head back against the headboard in exasperation, “I said what I said because you questioned about how you could get into bed now. If you can’t, then don’t.”

“Then I won’t,” Frank huffed out, finally moving from the bed, standing up to reach for a nearby pair of sweats, “I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight.”

“Frank,” Ryan sighed, “Don’t be like this.”

“Be like what, dude?” He asked once he had pulled his pants back on, trying his best to ignore his erection, “I suggested something, you shot me down. I suggested it because you had been different, but that was so one-sided. You get what you want and I don't. I wondered what was going to happen now and your answer is to just ignore what I wanted because you don’t want it anymore. So I’m gonna go downstairs and try to sleep.”

“Just get into bed-”

“No,” Frank cut him off as he pulled his shirt back on, grabbing at the blanket that sat on the bottom of the bed. He rolled it up under his arm before grabbing the can of cream, “Can’t believe my own boyfriend cock-blocked me.”

Frank heard Ryan mutter something under his breath but he wasn’t listening. He had already stormed out of the bedroom and was heading down the stairs. He could already feel the black cloud hanging over his head, thundering furiously. He was annoyed because Ryan had gotten him running and left him idling at his rev point. Frank was internally adamant that Ryan was in the wrong this time. He wasn’t just going to let it go because he was going to be on the sofa for the night. 

He entered his darkened front room, flopping down onto the sofa with a huff. He reached out onto the coffee table for the TV remote. Frank knew he could have found it easier if he just turned on a lamp or the overhead light, but he was far too annoyed at Ryan to even consider getting back up again. He was semi wrapped up in the blanket already, the Cool Whip hiding in the folds somewhere. 

He grabbed the remote and switched on the TV before he turned the volume down just in case Ryan decided to have a fanny-flip about something else. He didn’t need any more ammunition. Frank rubbed his sleep-filled eyes that were steadily growing heavier. He knew he couldn’t possibly sleep now, not only was he way too fucking upset but he also had yet to calm the raging boner in his pants. This fact only irritated him more. There was nothing he could do about it, however.

Well, there was one thing, but Frank wasn’t going to be a complete animal and jerk off on the sofa. What if Ryan walked in on him, made some comment about what he was doing and how much of a depraved pig he was because that’s where they watched TV. 

God forbid.

Frank just grumbled under his breath, wondering where they were going wrong if they couldn’t inject a little spice into their sex life. Was it really that bad if Frank couldn’t get a little excitement out of Ryan? To be honest, Frank had even been surprised that he had been up for it tonight. Twice in one week, that was highly unusual for Ryan, but it had been too good to be true and now. Clearly.

He scowled as he started to flip through the channels, trying to find something to which he could zone out. Frank reached into the folds on the blanket, grabbing the cream. He turned it over in his hand, wondering why Ryan had been so against the idea. But he didn’t put too much thought into it. If it wasn’t going to be used like that then Frank knew that he wasn’t going to let it go to waste. He continued to channel hop, shaking the can before pointing the nozzle into his open mouth, squirting out cream, eating it himself. It tasted good, probably would have tasted better on Ryan, but there was nothing that could be done. Frank licked cream from the corner of his mouth as he continued his search.

 _Nothing romantic_ , Frank thought as he changed the channel and landed on one that was showing 500 Days Of Summer. He had seen it once and now was not the time to watch it, especially when the poor guy in the film was wondering where it had all gone wrong with him and his girlfriend.

“Oh great, thanks.” Frank muttered at the TV, wondering if someone had done this on purpose to him. He was having trouble with his relationship. 

Then they were probably the most mismatched couple that Frank had even known. It wasn’t like Frank was into anything weird, not that he knew of anyway, but even as he changed the channel, moving away from that film as quickly as possible, he did begin to wonder if this was it for him? Was he destined to live a bland life with a bland partner and have bland sex for the rest of his life?

He really hoped not.

He settled on a channel to watch. Finally. Frank found Bridget Jones an easy film to watch that he knew that he wasn’t going to be watching for long. He yawned loudly. His tiredness was definitely starting to make itself more known. He was happier, having polished off the can of cream pretty quickly. He cleared his mind, avoiding anything that involved Ryan. That could wait. 

He was alone downstairs and even after twenty minutes, Ryan hadn’t bothered to come downstairs to check on him. Nor had he come downstairs to ask Frank to come back to bed. Frank could just imagine that Ryam had probably given up on him for the night, choosing to just roll over and go to sleep.

Asshole.

He considered staying up for a bit longer, but settling down under the blanket seemed like a better option. Frank knew that Ryan was an early riser, even on the weekends. Frank preferred to stay hidden under the covers for a while longer, having a lie-in while Ryan went downstairs to make breakfast. He knew that Ryan would probably wake him up in the morning when he surfaced from upstairs, so Frank knew to get some sleep. That was if he could.

He lay on the sofa and pulled the blankets up and around him as he tried to find a comfortable position. But no. That seemed almost impossible considering his dick was still raging. Eventually it would calm itself down, Frank thought to himself with a frown on his brow. He did know it, it had been known to happen in the past. It did seem to subside as he remained still, but internally Frank was still upset and worked up. He was so sure that steam was coming out of his ears. Even as he drifted off to sleep, he tried his best to ignore his fervent annoyance.


	6. Oh... Go Hug a Landmine

Frank woke up the next morning in a still-as-foul mood, his hand sticky with sweat as it clung to the now empty can of Cool Whip. He stared at it before scowling and setting it down on the ground. He grabbed the television remote and turned the screen off, stifling a yawn. The stretch in his jaw finally alerted him to the fact that his neck was killing him. He cringed at the pain in his spine from contorting himself on the sofa and carefully sat up, eyes still heavy and thick with sleep. He looked up at the clock on the wall beside the front door and scowled. It was only seven in the morning. Way too early to be fully functional or assimilated.

Frank let out a small whimper at the realization, at the sudden coming-around of what had transpired last night. Had they really fought over a damned can of whipped cream? Had he and his boyfriend really hit the dregs at the bottom of the barrel? Frank sighed as he mentally checked 'yes' and 'yes'. He sighed as he stood up slowly, his joints protesting at the stretch, his arms coming up to reach for the ceiling before he bent over and touched his toes. He stifled another yawn, his muscles sighing in relief as he straightened up.

Frank was also now waking up, he was also now trying to fathom whether or not he was still angry with Ryan- angry? Was he angry? Well, angry was a rather harsh word situationally. Frank would have to have said he was confused and annoyed more than angry. Confused as to why it was such a damn big deal for Ryan, annoyed at the way Ryan had acted and had not-so-brashly kicked him out of bed. Sure, Frank chose to sleep on the sofa, but it was only because he knew Ryan would cold-shoulder him and make it all the worse, like a huge crack dividing down the middle of their bed.

Frank carefully and quietly wandered back towards the bedroom, taking the stairs one at a time, noting which places to avoid for the loudest of creaks. The house was in total silence, which meant Ryan was most likely still asleep. Frank peered into the bedroom to see that Ryan was, in fact, comatose within the sheets. He had his back to the door, curls a-matte on his pillow like the dark chestnut roots of a tree. Frank sighed, scowling as he tip-toed into the bedroom and walked over to the bed, leaning over to climb in when he paused.

Frank usually never got hard in the mornings anymore, as though his body just knew after six years that Ryan wasn't the type for a morning session. Hell, Frank almost wept real and actual tears the one morning Ryan woke up, rolled over, and gave him a sloppy handjob. But this morning, Frank was still on the rebound- physically- from last night and it was evident that his body wanted some sort of release. Frank frowned at the back of Ryan's head and realized that maybe Ryan didn't deserve his dick, a laughable thought that Frank tried hard to push down, a smirk fighting its way onto his pierced lips.

Did Frank really want to get himself off in bed beside his unaware and sleeping boyfriend? Did he really want to stoop so low after the 'stunt' he pulled the night before? Frank was still hunched over, one leg lifted, when he looked down under his armpit at the shower behind him, contemplating one hell of a soap up. Was it the fact that it was a shower somehow making it seem less tacky, less wrong? Somehow the adage of some soap and water took away from the fact that Frank was trying to get himself off because he just didn't want to bother Ryan with his pesky problem. Or was Ryan the problem?

Frank pushed that thought aside almost as soon as it fell into his mind because no, he wasn't ready to think of his boyfriend that way. Frank straightened up and turned, undressing from his pajamas, tossing them in the hamper before he padded into their en-suite bathroom. Frank left the lights off, knowing it would lighten up outside soon enough, and he opened the shower door. He closed the bathroom door behind him before opening the faucet, turning the washer until the water was a decently scalding temperature. Frank grabbed a towel from the rail and flung it over the top of the shower before carefully stepping in.

He let out a small sigh, the hot water was like magic on his shoulders, unraveling knots in his flesh that he didn't even know he had. He looked down at his feet, closing his eyes as he carefully stepped back into the water and let it rain down on him. He could feel the heated torrents run down over his face and his front before he turned, facing the wall, drenching himself fully. He raised his head up for a moment before hanging it again, running a hand through his hair. It caught on a few knots, to say the least, and with Frank feeling as fired up as he was, he couldn't deny how the accidental tugs made his stomach flutter.

He sucked in a breath, his other hand itching as he ran it over his lower stomach, biting on his lip as he gave one more thought into whether or not this was going to be a slightly longer shower. The prospect of an orgasm being so close but so far would have tempted even the strongest of men- and Frank Iero was no Hercules when it came to sexual withdrawal. He felt his lip tremble at the prospect, giving one last glance at the closed bathroom door before he finally reached 'fuck it'.

Frank wrapped a hand around himself, whimpering quietly under his breath as the simple touch seemed to both relieve stress and tighten about sixty knots at once. Frank tightened his grip for a moment, sliding his wet palm up over his length and back down, his hand going back to cup his balls. He gasped softly, leaning back against the shower wall with his head. Frank opened his eyes, sucking in a short breath as his hand found it's way around his dick yet again. But no. Frank shook his head and straightened up, clearing his throat.

Frank frowned, grabbing his loofa and his shower gel from the caddy they had hung. He squirted some of the berry scented wash onto the grey washer and began furiously scrubbing his arms. He ran his sponge loofah over his chest, still scowling. He ran the loofa over his stomach, touching the base of his dick. He felt a spark of electricity in his veins and he looked down at his soapy skin, looking down at his dick still achingly hard. Frank tried again, his fingers stroking his dick slowly, moaning quietly. He felt each millimeter of touch made another notch in his already heated coil burn brighter.

Frank pulled away with a light gasp, whimpering as he looked at the door again with a guilted frown in his brows and a loofa in his hand, the other hand- sordid hand- behind him on the wall. Frank let out a groan, dropping his soaped up sponge, feeling it fall on his foot with a splotch as he wrapped a hand around his dick again, rougher than he had before, stroking quickly, catching himself off guard with a moan.

He looked down, his mouth hanging agape, his eyes glued to what he was currently busy with. He tightened his grip, his other hand raking on the tiles as he panted, his fingertips tingling. He felt the hot water on his skin as he carried on stroking, pumping. Frank let out a grunt, his free hand running over his ass when he froze. Did he really just consider it? Would he really be the one to do that to himself?

Oh yes. Frank mewled at the touch, his soaped up fingers tracing softly over his asshole, whimpering incessantly at the touch, at the slight burn that came with his teasing.

"Oh fuck- shit." Frank groaned to himself, picking up his pace as his skin began to heat up, his cheeks flushed brightly as they always did. Frank arched his back, his knees buckling as a shaky breath made its way from his panting lips, his rapidly rising and falling chest. Frank's eyes had yet to budge, still staring with a perverted fixation as he jerked himself off. He let out a shallow gasp, shuddering as the heat wormed its way into his nervous system.

Frank so badly wanted to make it last, so badly wanted to keep building his climax for as long as possible, draw out just how good he felt but he knew that it wouldn't last. It was just too good, it was just way too much from how his fingers were working, both pumping slick and plundering his asshole.

Frank hardly ever had the pleasure of Ryan in his asshole, either dick or fingers, and Frank had yet to ever experience a mouth on his hole; one of his greatest mysteries. Ryan would never in his wildest dreams think of something as vulgar as eating Frank out and barely let Frank do the same, his reasoning that if Frank did do it, he wouldn't kiss him for a week. Frank was already denied sex more than he cared to admit, the last thing he wanted was to have Ryan take away his plump, cherry lips. Frank would die. He let out a groan at the thought of Ryan's mouth, his knees shaking as he found himself standing up on his toes. A shuddering gasp leaving his chest as he finally remembered to breathe.

His orgasm was coming far too quick, his climax burning like a bright glowering stake in his lower belly. His gaze finally broke from his vulgar act, his eyes squeezed shut at just how good it felt. His head was tilted back as the hot water made him sweat even more than he already was, the steam curling against his tightened skin and in his lungs.

He moved his leg, his knee bent as he pushed a third finger in, crying out quietly at the stinging pain that shot into all the right places, pulling every knot and every coil tighter until finally, fucking finally it all unraveled inside of him. His hips rutted, fucking into his soaped-up palm as the release hit him right in the gut. He gasped out, moaning quietly in heavy, gasping moans as he came in heated, warm spurts that ran down over his knuckles to the water that circles at his feet. He could feel the exquisite electricity sparking through his body, making him tremble and spasm uncontrollably. His other hand thrusting into himself quickly, roughly, desperately.

He dropped back down to his feet, pulling out and letting go with a heavy sigh, the tingle still in his fingers and toes, burning in his thighs as he tensed. He looked down at himself for a moment before he bent down shakily, picking up his loofa. He ran the soaped up sponge over himself carefully, cringing and hissing at the oversensitivity of the loofa over his dick, jumping slightly before he cleaned his hands off and stepped under the water, watching the suds run off.

He cleaned off his sponge, hanging it on the hook before he closed the faucet. He grabbed the towel from atop the shower and ran it over his hair, fluffing it dry before he wrapped the towel around his hips and opened the shower, stepping out into the steaming bathroom. He turned to the mirror and smiled, drawing a smiley face in the mirror for Ryan like he always did before he opened the door.

"Enjoy yourself?"

Frank let out a yelp, jumping in fright as he came out into the bedroom and sat Ryan sitting up in bed clutching his usual chamomile tea in his usual navy blue mug. Frank stood there. His eyes wide as he tried to play it cool, his heart still raging in his chest but now for a different reason.

"I..." Frank ran a hand through his hair as he walked into the bedroom, "I have no idea what you mean."

"Your usual shower is about five-ten minutes..." Ryan took a sip of tea, "You were in there for about a half an hour. I doubt you were existentializing..." Ryan smirked at him and Frank felt himself blush.

"I- I wasn't..."

"Oh, you weren't?" Ryan tilted his head to the side, "You sure about that?"

"Yes." Frank narrowed his eyes as he walked over to the chest of drawers, unwrapping the towel to dry himself off. He set the towel on the end of the bed and opened the drawer, grabbing an old pair of boxers, slipping them on.

"You're lying." Ryan giggled, "You were jerking off."

"What's it to you if I was?" Frank turned and looked at Ryan, hands on his hips. He so badly wanted to ask Ryan why in God's name he was getting more action from his own hand than his boyfriend but no, he decided to hold his tongue despite his best efforts. He scowled at Ryan, who was smirking back at him, his wild curls in a surprisingly attractive mess around his smug face.

"I'm dating a pig."

"And I'm dating an anal-retentive seventy-year-old man." Frank opened the closet and grabbed the first t-shirt he could, pulling it on over his head.

"That's harsh." Ryan frowned and Frank shrugged.

"It's true."

Ryan scoffed, "It isn't."

"Prove me wrong." Frank quipped and Ryan set his cup down and turned to face his scorning lover.

"Get over here and I will." He countered and Frank raised an eyebrow.

"You won't. It's not part of your routine." Frank didn't move, watching Ryan's internal struggle seep into his facial expression.

"Oh... Go hug a landmine." Ryan scowled, folding his arms and Frank tilted his head to the side.

"Now who's harsh, Mr. Ross." Frank stated and Ryan sat up and swung his legs off of the bed, getting up before he walked over to Frank casually, looking down at him. Frank looked up at Ryan, who leaned down, kissing him tenderly, surprisingly tender for the moment. Frank stared at Ryan for a second before he closed his eyes as he kissed back, forgetting for an inkling of his annoyance. He sighed out as Ryan's hands held his hips, pulling him closer, his tongue in Frank's mouth, teasing. Frank let out a groan, the warmth of Ryan's body against his was something Frank had wanted so badly but no, Ryan had denied him that pleasure, and Frank had yet to let it go. He pulled away and Ryan's eyes fluttered open, a small frown of confusion in his perfect brows, "What?"

"You think kissing me is going to make up for last night?" Frank asked and Ryan bit on his lip, his face set in a line.

"I wasn't planning on just kissing you, Frank. I want to make up for it." Ryan smiled, his hands squeezing Frank's hips before he wiggled out of his touch.

"Y'know what?" Frank held his upper arm, "I'm not in the mood for once, dude."

"Really?" Ryan frowned and Frank shrugged, "That's new."

"I'm still upset with you." Frank looked up at Ryan, who was genuinely surprised.

"Because I said 'no' to whipped cream making me sticky?"

"You could've just had a shower like you always do." Frank rolled his eyes and walked away, walking out onto the landing.

"What is with you?"

"Yeah. I'm the problem." Frank replied simply with a scoff before descending the stairs, stomping unhappily as he decided to keep his foul mood intact. He walked into the living room and grabbed the blanket from the sofa, folding it up haphazardly before he lay it over the back of the sofa, hearing Ryan coming down behind him.

"Frank..." Ryan began, most likely standing in the doorway as Frank fluffed the pillow with which he had slept. Frank frowned, averting his gaze from the skinny man in the doorway.

"What?"

"Look at me."

"I'm busy." Frank lifted the pillow up, fluffing the corners to inspect them with feigned interest.

"Hey..."

Frank could hear Ryan was closer and he sighed, turning to look at Ryan, pillow still in hand. He sighed in annoyance, "What?"

"Come and have breakfast with me, sweetheart."

"French toast, right?" Frank asked and Ryan frowned.

"I thought you liked my french toast?" Ryan looked confused, a flash of hurt in his eyes.

"Not hungry." Frank shrugged. It was a lie; he was completely starving by now, but he just didn't want to sit in an awkward silence over breakfast with Ryan at the table.

Ryan took the pillow from Frank's hands and set it down, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Frank asked and Ryan nodded, "You don't need to be. It's your choice. You didn't say 'yes' so I didn't do it. I'd never force you to do something you clearly didn't want. Clearly. You were clear."

"And, of course, I appreciate that." Ryan replied with earnest, making the latter shrug, "But I know now that it meant something to you and I'm sorry for how we handled it."

"How we..." Frank frowned before he sighed, pushing his annoyance down, not wanting to start up a proper full-blown argument, "Okay. You're sorry."

"I really am, sweetheart." Ryan stated with a nod and Frank bit his lip, nodding, "I don't want aerated cream to come between us."

"Yeah well, it should have before you would have." Frank muttered, folding his arms and Ryan stared at him for a moment before he seemed to blush, a small snort leaving him.

"That's fucking disgusting, Frank."

"Yeah, okay. Apology accepted, dude."

"I'm gonna make some breakfast, you join me if you want to, okay?" Ryan asked out carefully and Frank pushed Ryan out of the living room and into the kitchen, steering him to the fridge, making Ryan giggle, "You should try and work on your interview."

"Hmm?" Frank asked with a frown as he slid into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

"Your interview, Frank. With Congressman Way, remember?" Ryan asked airily as he opened the fridge to grab the carton of eggs and whatever else he needed.

"Oh yeah.." Frank scratched at what felt like a pimple on his forehead, "When's that again?"

"On Monday." Ryan warned and Frank winced.

"Shit." He ran a hand over the just-growing stubble on his chin, "I completely forgot."

"You should work on some questions." Ryan stated as he put a pan on the stove, switching the plate on before plopping in a dollop of butter.

"I already have a heading." Frank rolled his eyes, "'Twenty Questions with Congressman Way'." Frank joked with a small laugh.

"I like that." Ryan smiled as he cracked an egg into a bowl.

"I was kidding." Frank frowned, looking over at Ryan.

"But it's a good heading. I mean if you ask him twenty questions. And it's catchy in any case." Ryan stated and Frank mulled out over, biting on the inside of his cheek as Ryan cracked in his third egg.

"I suppose. I mean why not, right? I've got nothing else for it."

"A heading is a good start." Ryan began whisking the eggs, turning to face Frank, facing him as he leaned against the counter.

"Yeah, I'll get my laptop." Frank got up before he paused, "Where is it?"

"I put it in the lounge next to the coffee table." Ryan smiled, grabbing the carton of milk, pouring in a small bit before whisking again. Frank walked out, padding into the living room to grab his laptop bag before returning to the kitchen. Ryan looked up, "What kind of french toast do you want?"

"I have options?"

"Well I mean you can have plain. Or I can maybe put a bit of cinnamon in it or something, some vanilla or honey..." Ryan trailed off and Frank pursed his lips.

"Cinnamon sounds good, dude." He nodded as he pulled his laptop out of his bag and put it on the table and opened it, switching it on.

"And by the way, don't just Google some random question to ask him. Actually put some effort into it, Frank."

Frank opened his mouth to answer when he suddenly jumped, hearing his phone ringing somewhere in the house. He got up, walking out, frowning as he strained his ears, listening. He walked into the living room, hearing it slightly louder. He walked to the sofa and dug around, pulling the device out from the cushions, noting it was a number he didn't know.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Is this Frank Iero?" A voice asked and Frank frowned, walking back into the kitchen.

"Yeah, this is him."

"This is Brendon Urie, Congressman Way's assistant." Brendon introduced himself cheerily as Frank slid back into his chair, watching Ryan dip a slice of bread into the egg mix before laying it in the pan with a light sizzle.

"Oh, hi."

"I know it's early, I hope I didn't wake you." Brendon laughed lightly and Frank smiled, the sound was contagious.

"Nah, I'm awake, I'm actually working on the interview as we speak," Frank replied as he opened up a new document and typed out the heading of his article with one hand.

"Oh, well that's good. Did Ryan inform you of your interview being this up-and-coming Monday?"

"Oh, yeah he did." Frank nodded.

"Is nine o'clock alright with you? The rest of his day is pretty chock-a-block considering he's busy with his campaign."

"Uh..." Frank frowned, "Yeah, nine should be good. I have nothing else on."

"Oh good." Brendon muttered, "Good. Do you have anywhere specific you'd like to meet?"

"Oh jeez... Uh..." Frank frowned, scratching again at the pimple on his chin, elbow on the table, "No, not really."

"How many do you want?" Ryan whispered to Frank as he flipped the slice over and turned to look at the latter.

Frank put his hand over the receiver, "Four slices please." He muttered and Ryan nodded before Frank continued for his phone call, "Sorry, what was that?"

"Can you meet Mr. Way at The Brunch Spot?"

"That restaurant in North Main?" Frank asked.

"That's the one."

"Yeah sure." Frank frowned, "Why not at his office?"

"Well, to be honest, now that Gerard is running again, he and his campaign manager feel as though it would be good publicity to see him interacting with the people, creating a rapport especially if it's going to be an interview for a paper. It'll be good for votes."

"Well uh..." Frank frowned, finding it rather odd that Brendon would admit something like that so openly, but he decided not to question it and rather just go with it, "That makes sense."

"So, you'll be there at nine on Monday," Brendon asked again and Frank nodded to himself.

"Wouldn't miss it." He bit his lip nervously, "And tell Mister Way that I say thanks for this."

"No problem." Brendon replied happily, "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"Yeah, you too." Frank looked at Ryan as Brendon hung up.

"Where you meeting him?" Ryan asked as he flipped a piece of toast over.

"The Brunch Spot." Frank sighed.

"Oh?" Ryan seemed as surprised as Frank was, "I thought it would be at his office, honestly."

"Yeah, me too. But it's publicity apparently." Frank shrugged as he looked at the blank document in front of him, sudden butterflies in his stomach, "Maybe I should do some research on this guy first."

"It wouldn't hurt," Ryan replied and Frank opened his browser, typing in Gerard's name and oh- Frank swallowed, as quite a few articles popped up on the congressman in question, most of them good' boasting about what a good job he's done for his district and the upkeep and mostly-puff-pieces that Frank was too lazy to read.

Ryan asked as he lay another slice in the pan, "So?"

"Gerard Arthur Way." Frank read as he opened a simple Wikipedia page on the politician, "Whoa- He's older than I thought."

"How old is he?"

"Says he's thirty-six." Frank snorted. "Jeez."

"I expected him to be older, actually." Ryan stated as he wandered off, putting the pan in the sink before reappearing.

"You have to be at least thirty to run for senate." Frank stated matter of factly.

"Really? I didn't know that." Ryan smiled as he reached up into one of the cabinets and pulled out two plates, setting them down at the table with the french toast in the middle.

"Thirty-five to be president and twenty-five to be a representative." Frank carried on as he read up a little bit on the congressman.

"That's pretty cool." Ryan commented as he sprinkled some icing sugar on top of the slices, "Want some strawberries?"

"Do we still have any honey?" Frank asked as he continued scrolling, "Gerard was married as well."

"Oh?" Ryan replied with a raised eyebrow as he opened the pantry and stuck his head in.

"Yeah, dunno if they're still married or not but he married his high school sweetheart." Frank smiled.

"That's sweet." Ryan reappeared with the bear-shaped bottle, "Bit like us." Ryan added as he set it down and Frank bit his lip, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"Uh-huh..." He muttered simply, scratching behind his ear as he frowned, concentrating on the screen instead of Ryan, the thought of marriage making him squirm. Frank had nothing against commitment, no. He had committed faithfully to Ryan for six years but the idea of marriage had him uncomfortable for one reason. But did he want to admit to himself that he was confused whether it was the thought of marriage itself or the thought of marrying Ryan that made him feel so iffy? Frank didn't know, and he didn't want to think about it before he was meant to enjoy a nice breakfast with the boy in question.

He pushed the thought of it all from his head with a small shake and tried to refocus on the website ahead of him as Ryan pottered around, grabbing cutlery for them from the draw along with a napkin or two.

"I wonder what he looks like," Frank muttered as he went to click on images.

"Breakfast is ready." Ryan put his hand on the back of Frank's laptop and gave it a small push, closing it a bit, making Frank jump as the page was about to load.

"Right." Frank smiled, rubbing his hands together, setting his laptop aside as Ryan sat in the chair across from him. Frank grabbed one of the slices from the plate with a smile, stealing the bottle of honey, drizzling a healthy helping on the slice as Ryan did the same with the blueberry sauce his mom had made for them.

Frank began eating when Ryan piped up, "So, did you think of any questions?"

Frank looked up, mouth full of light and fluffy french toast, wrists resting on the table edge, knife and fork in hand, "Oh uh, no. I drew a blank, dude."

"Want some help?" Ryan offered, "I mean I know jack squat about politics but I could give it a go." Ryan shrugged, cutting off a triangle of toast, popping it in his mouth.

"Sure." Frank smiled as he did the same, chewing slowly.

"Why don't you..." Ryan swallowed, pursing his lips in thought, 'Why don't you ask him about... Well, does your article have a specific theme? Like- is there a general criterion and leitmotif for it?"

"I was thinking of something relevant at least. See what his views on it are."

"Well, what about health care?" Ryan asked and Frank froze, looking up from his plate in surprise.

"That's actually not a bad idea, babe."

Ryan smiled proudly, looking slightly smug as he bit his lip and cut into his toast, "Yeah?"

"I could ask him, like," Frank bit into another chunk of toast, the honey making a sweet squelch against his teeth, "Like how the government has spent sixty years 'reforming' health care for employer-based medical aid."

"Really?" Ryan raised an eyebrow, "I didn't know that."

"Yeah," Frank swallowed, "The government has been 'reforming' health-care for sixty years-tax breaks for employer-provided health insurance, Medicare, Medicaid, encouraging HMOs and managed care, and government health-insurance at the state level in Massachusetts, Maine, Oregon. Government health-care has expanded until it is now more than 50% of all health-care spending. Yet after sixty years of government 'reform', the problems with health-care are just getting worse."

"Wow." Ryan muttered, "What would you ask him about that?"

"Well," Frank grabbed his second slice and the honey bottle, "I'd asked him why we should believe that even more government is the solution? I mean, is it really, y'know?"

"I really wouldn't know but write that down before you forget." Ryan nodded at the laptop and Frank nodded, licking his fingers before he closed the Gerard tab and opened his document back up, typing out the first question quickly.

"There. Nineteen to go." Frank smiled.

"You've got this." Ryan smiled encouragingly as he took his own second slice.

"God, I hope so, dude."


	7. It All Started with Pink Pineapple Socks

This was it, and even though Frank had fully prepared himself, nothing could have prepared him for how he currently felt. He definitely expected something else. A much more formal meeting place than a cozy breakfast café. So out in the open and on display. Neutral ground, he surmised. It made Frank feel so much more frazzled about it all. He didn't want to admit that there was even a small amount of a stage-fright-esque fear that remained unquelled in his gut. Frank didn’t think that he would ever be scared about doing something like this. It was his job, it was what he was being paid to do, but fear was residing in him and he couldn’t shake it. Frank was the small child coming face to face with the monster that lurked in his closet. He was well aware that he was blowing things way out of proportion. Although, with the way that his own personal nervous butterflies were swarming and attacking his stomach lining, it was safe to say that he had all right to blow things out of proportion. But it wasn’t just a person, it was a politician, a Congressman. 

He had seen this restaurant a million times. He had driven past it in the car and seen the cheery-yellow umbrellas outside that would cast enough comfortable shade for the patrons who were enjoying the warmth of a sunny day without risking melanoma.

Frank watched the restaurant for a second longer, trying to ignore Ryan in the driver’s seat beside him. And it wasn’t like he was suddenly having second thoughts about all of this. He knew that he couldn’t get out of this now, what with ten minutes remaining until he was supposed to be meeting this Congressman. An important man who probably had better things to do with his time than sit in a restaurant and talk to some wannabe-writer for a small town newspaper. He knew that he had to prove himself and also prove to himself that he could do this.

Frank had so many thoughts running through his head that it was beginning to get crowded. There were many possibilities that ended well in his head where Frank would talk to this guy who would enlighten him completely. This guy would definitely be years above Frank with far more experience. He would be wiser, of course. And that was exactly what scared the living shit and eggs out of Frank in the first place. He also knew that he could easily fuck up the golden opportunity that he had been given. He was trying to be confident but everything was going against him today. Including the location, the time and the fact that his stomach was churning not just because he was nervous, but because he had been so nervous this morning that even the very idea of breakfast was enough to make him green

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Ryan asked softly, his voice snapping Frank out of his worrisome reverie. Frank blinked hard, vision refocused. Ryan’s question seemed to register only a fraction in Frank’s head and his eyes flickered away from the restaurant. He turned to look at his partner, seeing the smile that Ryan was giving him. As much as the nerves were trying to knock Frank down a peg or two, he still tried to smile back. Frank tried to show confidence even though he was so sure that Ryan could see through it; the weak expression on his face was a dead give-away.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded quickly, turning his attention back to the eatery, “I’m good, dude.” 

“Y’know,” Ryan said to him idly, watching Frank case the place like a robber spying for exits. Frank’s hand was white around the door handle, knuckles a pure ivory. He was so sure something was going to break under the tensile strength of his grip, “It’s okay to be nervous.”

“I'm not nervous.” Frank lied, not looking at Ryan as the words fell from his lips. Frank knew that if he looked at Ryan, his cover would be blown and he'd be seen as utter chickenshit. He chewed on his lip as he tried will himself the courage to get out of the car.

The Congressman could have been in the restaurant already and Frank had no idea. He could have been waiting patiently for Frank, not realizing that Frank was having a small crisis in the car that was parked opposite where they were supposed to meet and talk.

“I can tell you're nervous,” Ryan chuckled, reaching a hand across the car to try and get Frank's attention. He laid his hand on Frank’s thigh, giving him encouraging affection, but it didn't work. Frank jumped in his seat and wondered if Ryan was trying to give him heart failure, “Frank. Take a breath.”

Frank obeyed the gentle offer, taking in a lung full of air, but it did nothing to calm him down. He didn't get how people telling him to breathe was supposed to calm him down. It just made him more aware of his tongue and that made him panic more. Frank looked at Ryan briefly before his gaze drifted down to his bag in the footwell. In his bag he had the bare essentials. Notebook, pens, recorder; all that he needed for this. He had everything set up and he was ready for this, but mentally he was really starting to wonder if he could have been more prepared.

“I just…” Frank started before he stopped himself, wondering if he actually wanted to go ahead and voice how he felt to Ryan, but he sighed, “I really don't wanna fuck this up.”

“You're not gonna fuck this up,” Ryan reassured him with a roll of the eyes, “Frank, you've got this.”

“I don’t want him to think I’m stupid,” Frank voiced one of the many fears that were starting to crop up in his head right now, “Wh- Dude- What if all this hard work I’ve done… He just thinks that it's stupid.”

“He won’t,” Ryan reassured him, “You're not stupid. He won’t think that this is stupid.”

Frank nodded, feeling somewhat better about it. The mere reassurance from Ryan allayed his fears a smidgen despite how badly it still niggled in his stomach. He tugged nervously on his jacket sleeves and grimaced at the outfit, remembering that Ryan had helped him pick it out because he had almost fainted with the anxiety. He knew he couldn’t pitch up in his usual comfy clothes, but he still had zero idea on the occasion and its dress code. 

The white t-shirt and black sweater worked well together as it always did especially when it was paired with his black jeans and the black boots that he was grateful he owned. Ryan had picked out his sweater, too. Frank had worried that it was too casual; the black sweater was a bit worn around the edges but Ryan had said that it would be perfect. Frank had been annoyed with himself because when he was half-dressed with his t-shirt and sweater on, he realized that he hadn't had a single clean pair of socks to his name.

He had sworn and cursed every dirty up and down minute until Ryan had to come to his aid. All of Frank’s socks had somehow managed to end up in the laundry hamper. At first, he had toyed with the idea that he should have just put on a dirty pair because it wouldn’t matter. It was when Ryan found him digging in the hamper, he nearly fainted and had to pry Frank from the hamper like a dog digging a hole in the yard. He had been so sure that he had had a clean black pair of socks for today but they had been swallowed up into the ethersphere somehow. Ryan had offered to help him out as a good boyfriend would and even tossed Frank a pair of his own socks that he could wear. Herein lay the problem that was definitely not helping Frank’s anxiety.

Frank felt so self-conscious about the socks that Ryan had given him. Frank liked his socks simple and one-color. He was the opposite of Ryan in this way. Frank liked solid colors and minimal pattern. He liked dark colors and tones. Ryan adored patterns and pattern-mixing. He wasn't necessarily a fan of bright colors and neons but muted shades like burnt orange and plum were a favorite combination if you threw in some plain and paisley. And then an extra pattern to his socks. Frank owned twelve pairs of socks and all of them were black except for a single pair of navy blue ones that he still had from high school gym.

Yet Ryan always wore a shock of color on his feet because that’s just how Ryan chose to live his life. His clothes were the exact opposite of his bland routine in Frank's opinion. The shock of color was what Frank felt so self-conscious about because they were the socks Frank had no choice but to wear. The socks were the softest pastel pink he had ever encountered, like cotton candy. Oh, and they had pineapples all over them, too.

Frank wouldn’t exactly go out on a limb and say that these socks were very formal and he felt that they were so very bright against the rest of his dark outfit. Frank had wished that Ryan hadn’t found him raiding the laundry hamper and that he could have just gotten away with wearing dirty socks with a bit of powder or Febreze in them or something. But no, the universe was not so kind. Frank had found a pair of black socks and had lifted them up to his nose to smell just how pungent they had become while fermenting in and amongst his clothing. Ryan yelped out in horror and smacked them away as though Frank were a child about to eat a worm. Frank was really hoping that the Congressman wouldn’t make a snap judgment about Frank’s intellect based on his choice of bright socks. He was hoping that congressman Way wasn’t going to be paying attention to what Frank was wearing at all and paying more attention to what Frank was asking him.

“I just,” Frank paused for a moment. He didn't want to hurt Ryan's feelings because he had done a nice thing. He had saved Frank from the possibility of wearing a pair of days-old socks that really didn’t smell okay enough. It was just that the gesture itself could make or break his interview. He bit his lip, “I just hope that I look okay for this.”

“You look fine.”

“Is this enough?” Frank asked the same question that he had asked Ryan several times before they both left the house. He felt the need to repeat the question. He couldn’t help it. He sighed and looked down, “I mean, the whole outfit… It looks okay, doesn't it?”

“Of course it looks okay.” 

“So nothing stands out as… Too garish or totally out of place, like, say… The socks?”

“What is wrong with my socks?” Ryan asked with a frown, clearly wondering why Frank had chosen that particular item to nitpick on.

“Nothing,” Frank replied noncommittally even though the wince on his face gave him away, “It's just… Dude, they may be a little too bright.”

“But they're my lucky socks. I gave them to you so you would have good luck today.” Ryan pouted, “I was doing a nice thing.”

“And it was a nice thing-” Frank cut himself off, suddenly wishing that he hadn’t brought it up at all despite how heavily the bright colors and tropical fruits were weighing on his mind.

“Just forget I said anything.”

“Do you have a problem with my socks?” Ryan pushed his questioning, making Frank groan.

“I don't have a problem with your socks,” Frank reassured him with an appeased smile. Ryan sat there, pursing his lips as Frank checked his phone and saw how little time he had left, “I’ve got a few minutes…”

“You’re going to be fine.” Ryan smiled at his boyfriend. He was currently sitting next to Ryan in the car, looking out at the restaurant while he pulled his bag out of the footwell with a green tint to his face.

“You’re confident.” Frank snorted, rolling his eyes; he hated how Ryan was far too confident of Frank's abilities. Frank almost felt jealous over the fact that Ryan was so confident. If only he could be as confident as Ryan. 

“I am because I know you can do this,” Ryan told him. Frank felt the urge to fight back for a moment, his nervousness taking charge in the last few minutes before he would get out of the car and have to face what he had to do. But he didn't fight. Frank watched Ryan and fought back the urge to eye-roll. It was pointless, it was just a mere circle now between them of anxious questions and reassurance. It was easier to just listen.

“You say that you're nervous, but I know that you can do this. Whatever you've ever been given to do, be it work or something different, you've dealt with it. You're always confident with what you do, Frank. You’ve got your head screwed on, you really don’t need to worry about him thinking that you’re stupid.” 

“Thanks.”

“I think that we both know that you can do this,” Ryan continued, looking Frank right in the eyes to prove his point.

He couldn’t even bring himself to open the car door yet, “Yeah…”

“You’re just not looking at it positively. Remember, this is a good thing. You got given this opportunity because it wasn’t that they're trying to test you but they know that you can do this, too. You're going to do so well with this. Trust me, because I trust you.” 

“Honestly, thank you, Ry,” Frank blushed lightly. Frank smiled at him, reaching a hand across to hold Ryan's fingers in his own. He squeezed gently, affection between the two of them calming Frank more now. He kissed the back of Ryan's hand and smiled, smelling the Pina Colada lotion from Ryan's skin, “Feel like I needed that.”

“Glad that I could help,” Ryan smiled before checking the time, “Shouldn't you get going? It's nearly nine.”

“Probably,” Frank nodded as he drew in a shaky breath and glanced out of the window to take one more look at the restaurant. He looked at his boyfriend again, “You gonna wish me luck, babe?”

“You've got all the luck you need,” Ryan spoke, looking down purposefully, making Frank groan softly as he remembered he had been given a certain pair of lucky hosiery, “But still, good luck.”

“Thanks,” Frank said as he broke the distance between them and gave Ryan a tender kiss that seemed to surprise him. They whispered a soft ‘I love you’ each before Frank actually opened the car door. He pulled his bag with him as he got out of the car and slid it onto his shoulder before he leaned down to look at Ryan, “I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Then you can tell me how well it went.” 

It was when Ryan had pulled out of the parking space and waved goodbye that Frank felt his nerves rise up again like a wary dog on guard. They weren’t as bad as when he had been sitting in the car. He felt like he had his anxiety under control but it was still worming it’s way up. He made his way toward the restaurant, crossing the road and semi hoping that a car would hit him and he wouldn’t have to do this. It wasn't even like he was interviewing a local citizen who was a nobody to the bigger papers out there. No, he was about to interview a Congressman. Even though Frank had finally grabbed firmly onto his confidence as he got closer to the entrance of the restaurant, he still worried. He was interviewing such an important person, the slightest mistake and Frank knew that there would probably be no recovery from it. Not that he tried to focus on that. He kept his mind on the positive outcome of his interview at the end of the day. He finally took hold of the restaurant door to pull it open, taking the first step inside. This was it. The moment that he had been working up to all weekend.

The small restaurant was quiet, just as Frank had expected that it would be at nearly nine am. With a name like ‘The Brunch Spot’, Frank could imagine that this was the kind of place that got busy before and around lunchtime. Right now there were a few people seated, having breakfast, but it was relatively quiet. It calmed Frank to a degree; if it had been busy then that would have added to his nervousness. He knew he could never concentrate in a bustling and busy restaurant no matter how hard he tried. He was so worried that it would have made it harder for him. Too many distractions. Frank didn’t want that, especially when his main focus was the man that was going to be turning up any moment now. Or was possibly already here. Frank wished that he had checked this Congressman out over the weekend. Frank wished that he had found out what he looked like because he was blindly scanning the restaurant, looking at the tables that were taken. He was wondering if the Congressman was here already. 

A waitress came over to where Frank was standing, drawing his attention to her after he had been eyeing one of the tables. A man was sat there, older, in a suit, eating breakfast while reading a newspaper. Frank had wondered if it was him, mentally cursing himself if it was because clearly this guy had been here a while if he was already eating breakfast and passing the time by reading a newspaper. Shit on a hot tin roof. Frank smiled nervously at the pretty blonde waitress when she spoke to him, “Welcome to The Brunch Spot. Would you like a table?”

“Uh, no,” Frank stuttered, trying to remember what Brendon had said to him over the phone, “There’s a reservation under the name, um, ‘Way’?”

He grimaced and wondered why he had made it sound like a literal question despite knowing what it was that he was here for and with whom. He knew the reservation; it had been pinned to his fridge since the phone call like a constant reminder every time he went to the fridge to get something. The stupid sunflower magnet of Ryan's holding it for him. 

The waitress looked startled but nonetheless she grabbed two menus and smiled at Frank before she pointed towards a set of doors, “Right this way, sir.”

Frank followed the waitress through the restaurant, clutching the strap of his bag against his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief when they passed the table where the greying man in the suit was sitting and eating his breakfast while reading the Star-Ledger. Thank God it wasn’t him. Frank was grateful; at least there was still a chance that he had arrived here first. He hoped that he had gotten here before Congressman Way just because he wanted to come across some semblance of preparedness. The idea of walking up to their reserved table, coming face to face with the person that he was going to be questioning for the next short period of time, it had a small whimper leaving him.

The waitress led Frank to a side door, holding it open for him. He frowned and stepped outside, unsure of why their reservation had been placed in the small external seating area. There were few tables, not as many as there were inside, dotted around, leaving Frank weaving between the wooden tables with the waitress. He wondered where he was going to be seated, looking at the tables with the cloths laid out over them, salt and pepper on each of the tables along with an ashtray in the middle. Some were situated underneath large umbrellas that provided comfortable shade. But the waitress stopped by one of the tables near the black iron fence that lined the outdoor area. Her hand rested on one of the chairs, asking Frank if he wanted to order a drink while he waited.

“Coffee with milk and no sugar, please.” Frank smiled at her as he sat down and set his bag down on the floor beside him. The waitress lay a menu in front of him and across from him at the empty seat.

“Coming up.” She told him before she disappeared a second later and went back inside. Frank was alone with himself then and he was able to take it all in. It seemed to all be coming to a head but in a somewhat calming manner. He was still nervous but he felt a sense of clarity that was washing over him. Ryan’s words rang out in his head as he reached into his bag and pulled out what he needed. He lay his notebook, pens, and recorder on the table next to the cutlery. Not that he could bring himself to eat anything other than his own fucking foot.

He looked in his notebook, going through the questions he had drawn up over the weekend while he waited for his coffee to arrive. He read through the questions slowly, making sure that they made sense. He was holding his pen between his fingers, twitching and tapping the pen against the table while his bottom lip was pinched between his teeth. The nerves slowly bubbling away under his skin, trying to surface as he continued to tap the pen against the table repeatedly. He realized his notes were perfect and he breathed a sigh of relief as he picked up his coffee and took a sip.

A few moments passed, the waitress came back outside, asking Frank if he wanted to order any food. He declined, his stomach queasy at the idea of any sort of solid sustenance. Any moment now Congressman Way was going to be here and the idea was turning his stomach. He knew he was probably starving underneath all of the anxiety. He was more than likely going to pig out once this was all over. At least he was in the right place for that. 

Frank lost himself in his head for a short while as he stared out at the people who were walking along the street. It felt like ages and seconds at the same time. How was he going to come across when he questioned Way? He didn’t want to come across as a know-it-all even though Frank knew all about the stuff that interested him. He also didn’t want to sound stupid; stumbling over his own questions. The questions that he kept reciting in his head while he waited and drank his coffee. He was worried that Way would probably end up judging him. He didn’t want to be seen as a stupid kid; he knew what he was doing. It was just the prospect of getting it out eloquently to a very important man. 

“Frank Iero?” He heard it nearby. His own name didn’t register for a second until he realized that someone was talking to him. Someone who already knew his name. Frank looked up from his notes with a frown because he wasn’t expecting to see anyone other than Congressman Way. Plus he wasn’t expecting to see anyone who would full-name him like that. Some guy. Frank frowned, looking up to see a man who was standing by the table, one hand in his pocket while the other hand remained extended like he expected Frank to take it.

It took Frank too long of a second to realize who the man was that was standing by his table. The man dressed in a smart black suit and wearing sunglasses with a shock of orange hair that really caught Frank by surprise. Everything about the person that stood in front of him took Frank by surprise. Not just because he was actually here already, but just… Frank found himself lost for words as he stood up. He pushed his chair back against the decking and extended his own hand to shake the hand of Congressman Way.

He really wasn’t what Frank had expected and far from what he had imagined in his head. Frank knew that he was thirty-six, but Frank had built up this image in his head of some regular looking man, or maybe not even regular. Just some man who was probably wiser beyond their years, looking older than they actually were, but no. That was not how Way looked. He was standing in front of Frank, practically taking his breath away and melting his thoughts. His mind was too scattered to construct anything coherent to say to the spectacle of a man that had finally arrived.

“Yes.” Frank finally answered dumbly. Gerard just didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would have gotten into politics. But there was something about him; maybe it was the way he seemed to ooze confidence as he released Frank's hand. He pulled up the empty chair opposite Frank and sat down gracefully.

Just something about him struck Frank and it rang so clearly in his brain. The vibes from the Congressman were enough to make you completely forgetful of your own name. He shrugged the black blazer off and laid it on the back of his chair. Frank felt even more surprised; for a man of his status, Gerard really was appearing like a man who probably had more hidden than he let on, including the shirt he had chosen to wear. It was white and crisp and littered with large faded polka dots in soft charcoal. Not exactly what Frank thought he would be wearing. Frank couldn’t put a finger on it, but there was something about him that gave off an almost powerful vibe. The control he probably had was immense and Frank felt like his head was going to spin as he finally addressed him, “Congressman Way. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” He said, taking a seat, smiling at Frank who was still standing up. And somewhat dumbfounded, “You can sit down, Frank.”

Frank did instantly, the command grounding him back down into the moment, pulling him away from the shock. It brought him back into reality as he sat down and slid his chair back in toward the table. Frank didn’t see it, unaware, but Way was watching him from behind his sunglasses, noticing the blush that was lightly smattering his cheeks. The way his eyes looked down at the table. Gerard cocked his head to one side slightly, taking note in his head, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Thank you for taking the time to do this,” Frank said as he reached for his coffee and took a sip. 

Frank could not take his eyes off the bright hair that really was drawing his attention. Such a shade of orange that Frank swore he would never have expected to see on a Congressman. Orange wasn’t even a strong enough word for Frank right now. It didn’t seem to sit right in his head. For a writer, which Frank hoped that he was, anything else could have been more fitting for the shade that was really making him not want to break eye contact for a second. Orange just wasn’t enough to Frank. It was like the last shot of vermillion in the sunset before nightfall, like bright embers hidden in the wood of a campfire. It was mesmerizing to the point that Frank could feel himself staring. 

Not even eye contact, he couldn't make eye contact with Way right now. The sunglasses were hiding his eyes from Frank and it made him wonder if he was being looked at right now- And that was making his stomach churn even more. He immediately dropped his eyes down and looked at the paper that he had set out in front of him, “I understand that you're a busy man.”

“Well yes, I am,” Way commented as he picked up the menu that had been placed on his side of the table before he scanned it quickly and set it back down, “But I was happy to make time for this.”

Frank smiled at that, feeling a little calmer. He didn't feel like he was completely wasting his time now. Or wasting a Congressman’s time, either. Frank thumbed through his notes, “So, do you want to start now or-”

“A moment please,” Way told him, pausing him with a hand up. The words halted on Frank’s tongue instantly and his mouth closed. Gerard turned to smile at the waitress that had come over to their table, asking him if he wanted to order anything, “I'll get a black coffee please, maybe some breakfast. Frank, are you eating?”

“Oh,” Frank was genuinely surprised, “Probably not.”

“Are you sure?” Way pushed, “Breakfast is one of the most important meals of the day.”

Frank wondered if he should have just told Way that he had already had breakfast before he left to come here. He felt himself shaking his head; he couldn't bring himself to lie and get away with it. The very thought of watching Way eat was making his stomach realize that he was in fact hungry. His nerves had subsided enough to let him eat without having horrible repercussions afterward, “I haven't eaten yet. I wasn't hungry this morning.”

“You must eat something,” Way practically instructed, “You can't do an interview on an empty stomach.”

“I’ll be fine.” Frank tried to reassure him as he drank a mouthful of his coffee but Way wasn't having it.

“I insist. Eat.” He said, his voice a little firmer this time round before he turned to smile at the waitress again, “I'll have poached eggs on brown toast, please. Frank? What will you have?”

Frank picked up the menu that was in front of him and briefly scanned over it before he dropped it back down, “Honestly, I’m not hungry.”

“Now, Frank, I can’t be the only one out of the two of us eating. That's impolite.” Way tilted his head and looked at Frank over the rim of his sunglasses. It was a look that made Frank squirm in his seat and almost feel like he knew that he didn’t have much of a choice. He had to eat.

“Fine,” Frank sighed and gave in rather than arguing. He didn't want this entire experience to start off badly just because he didn’t want to eat. He looked down at the menu a second time, “I’ll have… I don’t know, dude. An egg croissant with cheese, please.”

“More coffee, sir?” 

“Maybe a pot, thank you,” Way smiled at her as he handed her the menu and leaned back in his chair. Frank wondered if he could actually bring himself to look at the man that was probably watching him right now from the other side of the table from behind his sunglasses, “You don’t have to look so nervous Frank. I don’t bite.”

“I’m not nervous,” Frank said, a little quicker than necessary. Of course, he was nervous, he had every right to be nervous as this man watched Frank from behind those dark sunglasses. It was unnerving to say the least, especially when he was first-naming Frank already. Frank hadn’t even gotten round to an introduction because Way had just arrived and had said his name when he was stood by the table confidently. How was that such an attractive thing? Even if the naming had already thrown Frank off kilter. 

Frank fidgeted in his seat, “I just… How did you know it was me? How did you know that I was the person you were expecting to meet?”

“Well,” Way chuckled softly and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, fingers linking together. His chin resting on top of them, giving Frank a side curl of a smile, “I like to know the people in my district.”

Frank blinked at that. His mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. A wave of confusion passed over Frank. The thought of Way already knowing who he was before he even arrived was slowly trickling into Frank’s head. It was like a chill down his spine and Frank felt unnerved by the fact that Way might have already known him or known about him at least. What if he had done a background check on Frank before he even met up with him?

The idea scared Frank a little bit and made him wonder just how much the Congressman already knew about his life. A small noise left Frank, a weird combination of an ‘oh’ and a muffled ‘huh’ that seemed to have exhaled from his nose, too. He just continued to blink at Gerard, unable to say anything to him. Frank was immediately confused when Way let out a laugh and shook his head lightly as he leaned back in his chair. Frank scowled a little, “What? What’s so funny?”

“I was messing around with you. Trying to break the tension,” Way told him as he continued to smirk. The waitress brought over a pot of coffee and another mug, “My assistant showed me the paper for which you work. Your picture is in the paper, above your column… Which coincidentally, has your name on it.”

“Oh, yeah… Of course,” Frank said, feeling relief wash over him when he realized that he hadn’t been the subject of a check.bHe hadn’t had his personal life searched with a fine-tooth comb. Just an ice breaker. A weird one at that. He breathed out nervously and looked down, “Oh. I didn’t realize.”

“Don’t look so scared, Frank,” Way spoke softly, his words warm and surprisingly calming. Frank nodded at him, watching Gerard pour coffee and grab a small sachet of sweetener. He added the contents into the mug before he took a sip, “I’m also glad that you agreed to meet here.”

“How so?” 

“I expect that you thought that this was going to take place in my office.” He said with a smile and Frank nodded, surprised at the mind-reading capabilities.

“I had wondered, to be honest,” Frank replied with a shrug.

“I see our current location as a comfortable setting in which to do this” Way began to explain as he stirred his spoon slowly in his coffee, “Instead of doing this in such a regimented manner in my office, I thought that it could be lighter. Less clerical, more… Convivial.”

Frank had no idea what the Congressman had just said; his words sounded like another language. Frank didn't want to sound stupid if he asked Way to repeat himself in a less formal sense. So, he just nodded and hummed in agreement, pretending that he was totally on board with what Gerard had said to him. 

“So, why did you pick this place?” Frank continued to question, his general curiosity starting to take over. It wasn't that the restaurant was sub-par, it wasn't even like it was some fancy place that Frank could totally see this guy dining at. It was just that it was some random restaurant.

“Well, publicity is always good,” Way chuckled softly, “People seeing me out and about, engaging with the public. But also…” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee before he leaned in closer to Frank, “I assume that some people would stir up chatter if we went to some classy restaurant. They would judge based on money and power and all sorts of things like that. If we went to some run-down cafe then they would start a kerfuffle, saying that I’m trying too hard to fit in with the general public. Plus the food here is exquisite."

“Are you trying to fit in with the general public?” Frank wondered out loud with a small shrug.

“Some people may think that,” Way spoke, “In some ways I am, but what it boils down to at the end of the day is that I am just like everyone else. I am just another man. Yes, my job means that a certain amount of people have certain expectations of me, but I’m just the same as say, you, Frank. I do my job just like you do. It doesn’t make me any different. I may be different from the normal folk but I find it easier to blend in when they see me among them.”

“Your salary must make you stand out from the crowd to a degree, though,” Frank brought up, wondering if he was going a bit below-the-belt with bringing up earnings, “Your wife must be happy. Not just because of the money, but the lifestyle that it may incur.”  
  
Way frowned for a second, “My wife?”

“Yeah, your wife… Lindsey?” Frank name-dropped, hoping to get some sort of an answer, “It must be a lavish lifestyle to a degree?”

Way cleared his throat and seemed to collect his thoughts, “It keeps her happy. But we don’t need money to be happy. We have each other, so even though I do have what people may consider a high profile and very important job, I guess she keeps me grounded to a degree. And the lifestyle that came with the job, well, we would be happy no matter how we live.”

Frank smiled at that and nodded as he finished off his coffee. He reached for the pot and poured himself another cup as a way of keeping his hands busy. A man like Way, it must have been interesting in a way, trying to live a normal life with his wife. Just because of his job, it didn’t mean that his marriage would be any different. 

“So you two have been married for… How long?” Frank pushed, even though he was nervous, he decided that perhaps marriage was a safer topic than Way’s finances. It was like he had dipped his toe into the water with questioning, so to speak.

“We have been married for eleven years,” Way commented and Frank could now definitely tell that he was being watched. Frank’s hands had disappeared under the table and he was unable to keep eye contact.

“You have such a way with your questioning. Is this interrogation a part of the interview?” Gerard asked with a small tilt to his head. Frank almost fainted.

“No, God no,” Frank piped up immediately and looked at Way, wide-eyed, “I was just wondering... Trying to get to know you as a person before we begin, sir.”

“Ah,” Way nodded, narrowing his eyes. Instantly more formal than he had previously, “Well, that is good to know. I didn’t want to find out that your inquisitive nature had an agenda.”

“No, honestly,” Frank reassured him, “I was just honestly wondering. Like, how does someone get into politics? I mean for yourself, what made you want to get into it? There must have been a reason or a start-off point where you decided that this was the path that you wanted to take.”

“Well, I could lie and tell you that I loved all of this from a baby but honestly, I used to find it all boring when I was a kid. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized I had some form of an interest in it. I took my Business Degree when I was younger. I moved on to do my Degree in Political Science, but I nearly threw it all away at one point.” Way went on to explain casually, not taking in how Frank gave him a quizzical look over what he had said.

“You nearly threw it all away?” 

“What with the politics of school that was getting to me, seeing as Political Science is much harder than the Business was, I was also experiencing ‘politics’ out of school. At home, it was all becoming too much for me,” Way continued, “I couldn’t cope with the pressure, but I stuck it out.”

“What made you stick to it?”

“When I was twenty-six, that was when I decided that I wanted to do something about the place I love. Where I come from,” Way told him, “Because one night when I was out, I got mugged. I had everything on me stolen, I was beaten up for possessions. It was a horrible experience to which no one else should be subjected. I knew my area by then. It wasn’t exactly crime-free, but it made me want to change those factors. It gave me back my fire. I knew exactly what I wanted to do and dropping out of college was definitely not it.”

“So, you stuck it out and became a Congressman?” 

“Well, not straight away,” Way smirked, “It takes time and a lot of hard work to get to where I am today.”

“Still, you made it,” Frank pointed out, “Is there anyone else in your family that followed in your footsteps?”

“No,” Way chuckled, “When my parents knew what I was aspiring to be, they assumed that my younger brother, Michael, would follow suit. Despite that, we grew up separately. Adopted, you see? He was always a little more away in his own head when we were younger. I was too, but I found a purpose. He, however, he didn’t find that and as much as his parents wanted him to turn out more like myself, he chose a different career path.”

“What does he do?”

“He had a dream and I helped him get the job that he wanted.” Way spoke in a curt tone as he drank his coffee.

“How so?"

“Well, seeing as my _baby_ brother lacks any sort of work ethic unless it means that he gains something at the end, I helped him to get to where he is today. Getting him started, noticed, helping him to climb the ladder in his profession.”

“What does he do?” Frank asked again, seeing as Gerard hadn’t really answered the initial question he had given him.

“He works in the fashion industry,” Way told the younger man, smirking when Frank had raised an eyebrow at his answer, “I know. Hard to believe that we have careers that are practically on opposite ends of the spectrum.”

“I just never expected you to say something like that,” Frank admitted, trying to quickly reel in his shock.

“Well, it’s true. My brother is currently working on next year's Summer line. He did some work with Westwood a couple of seasons ago too.” Way added but left it there, guessing that Frank probably wouldn’t want to hear that story in great detail. He was right. Frank could not give a single shit.

“Who?"

“Vivienne Westwood. She is a British fashion designer.”

“Sorry,” Frank stumbled, looking down at his hands that he had laid on his lap, “I don’t really know much about fashion. My boyfriend does, though.” 

“Boyf- Oh, the curly-haired hippie-boy with all the muted colors. What was his name now? Rory?”

“Ryan.” Frank smiled and Way offered a lip curl in response, “He’d probably know who you meant.”

“So, Ryan knows fashion then?”

“More than me.” Frank shrugged with a scoff and Gerard looked him over for a moment in their cultivated silence before a finger came up, pushing his sleek sunglasses up further on the bridge of his nose.

“I suppose that explains the socks.” Way smirked and Frank grimaced. _Fucking wonderful_. Frank was about to bring up something else; he tried to ignore that his face was turning red-hot with embarrassment. He wanted to immediately change the subject and he opened his mouth to try and salvage his ego when the waitress appeared carrying their food. She set their plates down in front of them and Way thanked the waitress with a smile about which Frank now wondered.

Why was it possible for Frank to be easily affected by one smile? He wasn’t even smiling at Frank but it still got to him, making his stomach knot up a little more than it already was with nerves. He thanked the waitress for his food and picked up his cutlery from the table. Frank looked down at the plate and internally groaned because food probably wasn’t going to sit well with him. And yet, he didn’t want to offend especially seeing as he had been so insistent that Frank ate with him.

“So,” Way spoke through a mouthful of food, waving his fork in the air towards Frank while he chewed, “Shall we begin properly now? As much as I said that I was happy to do this, I am still on a tight schedule.”

“Of course,” Frank nodded as he set his knife and fork down and adjusted his notes. He cleared his throat and exhaled shakily, “I’m ready when you are, dude.” 


	8. Showing an Interest in Your Internal Organs

“Well, go on, Frank.” Way set his cutlery down and took a small sip of coffee. He unbuttoned the two cufflink buttons on his white, faded black polka-dotted shirt and began to skillfully, deftly roll up the sleeves of his shirt up to beneath his elbows. Frank nodded quickly and reached down into his bag, pulling out his tape recorder, showing it to the older man across from him who smiled, “Professional, I like.”

“Okay, so.” Frank cleared his throat, clicking the ‘play’ button on the recorder before taking in a shaky breath, noting that there were still eyes on him, “Right. The first question I have for you- well almost all of them- revolve around your health-care campaign and the bill that has recently been put up for Congress.”

“You pay attention to current politics.” The Congressman smiled, taking another sip, “Impressive.”

“The government has been ‘reforming’ health-care for sixty years: tax breaks for employer-provided health insurance. Do you agree, Mr. Way, that Medicare, Medicaid, encouraging HMOs and managed care, and government health-insurance at the state level in Massachusetts, Maine, Oregon are all in a plateau. Government health-care has expanded until it is now more than 50% of all health-care spending. Yet after sixty years of government ‘reform,’ the problems with health-care are just getting worse. So why should we believe that even more government is the solution and why you?” Frank asked and he looked at Gerard, who was staring at him, a slow smile spreading on his lips as he steepled his fingers and readjusted.

“You really know your politics, more than I expected, I might add. Well to answer your question we have to look at why it would take so long, why it would take sixty years to ‘reform’ as you so structurally put it- the health-care issue. Not many people are aware that there are five hundred and thirty-five people in total in Congress and,” Way stopped, cutting a piece of toast, popping it in his mouth and chewing swiftly, “Getting them all to agree on one thing is a highly difficult prospect on its own. There are a total of 535 Members of Congress. 100 serve in the U.S. Senate and 435 serve in the U.S. House of Representatives. And as far as your question is concerned, boy, I’m well aware of the ‘reform’ of healthcare that the government is trying to put out and personally I believe that the public should grasp onto the idea of more government and involvement simply because of the statement ‘power in numbers’ and with a higher number, it will be a lot easier to enforce a better constituency in the HMO’s and in Medical care than if there were fewer with a more fastened and impermeable mindset.”

Frank nodded, his cheeks still slightly flushed at the compliment he had received, taking a sip of his coffee before he marked off the question on his notepad, “Second question, Congressman.”

“Frank,” He interrupted, making the latter look down, “You can call me ‘Gerard’.”

“Well- Well, not in the interview, I can’t.”

“Saying ‘Congressman’ every two seconds is a mouthful, though. Rather a mouthful of food than a mouthful of stumbled word, boy.” Gerard took another stab of egg into his mouth, “Call me ‘sir’ then, hmm?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank replied with a nod, biting his lip, “President Obama keeps telling us that he's not trying to get rid of private health insurance. But the current bill being debated in Congress would require all new insurance policies to be offered through a government-run exchange. In saying this the rates that can be charged and the coverage that has to be provided will be dictated by the government's so-called ‘Health Choices Commissioner.’ Employer-provided health-insurance will fall under the same regulations in five years. In your opinion, sir, how is this insurance going to be ‘private’ if the government controls everything about it?”

Gerard eyed Frank from over his sunglasses for a mere pause before clearing his throat, “How many questions are you asking me?”

“Twenty.” 

“Twenty it is.” Gerard nodded, “Well, I personally saw to it when the bill had initially been propositioned, having been an unbiased Democrat in a middle-class district. Well, my exclusive opinion on the matter is that insurance for exclusionary and private citizens will be less focused on economic factors and more on the illness itself, dividend fundage being the key in this instance. It just so happens that the government deems the term ‘private’ in this instant more as ‘anonymous’ than as ‘fancier’ and less class-orientated.”

Frank frowned to himself at the vagueness of Gerard’s answer because technically, he did answer but at the same time he did not. Physically, answering the question without giving a proper answer in true political fashion.

“Right- Right yeah. Thank you. Nextly, a video on YouTube shows Barack Obama back in 2003- only twelve years ago- saying that he is in favor of a ‘single-payer’ system. The ‘single-payer’ is government, so this means he was in favor of socialized medicine. And just a few weeks ago, Barney Frank- one of the Democratic leaders in the House- said that he considers the current bill a step toward ‘single-payer.’ So, when Obama and the Democrats tell us this bill won't lead to a government takeover of health-care, why should we believe them and what are your thoughts on this ‘single-payer’ as the Congressman of your district?”

Gerard raised his eyebrows as he cut off a triangle of egg and toast and bit into it, chewing as he thought, “My personal thoughts on a ‘single-payer’ bill, and as a Democrat- is that, written in the bill that had been worked on, it states specifically that Obama and the rest who are in agreement worked on the specifics of the financial sectors and less on government ‘take-over’ as a whole. The simple fact being, Frank, is that healthcare is a difficult quandary for a lot of people to grasp. There were many in Congress who stood against the bill, almost sixty-percent as a whole because of the financing and would rather see to it that it would be private capitalization rather than ‘single-payer’.”

“Wow…” Frank smiled, “You know a lot about previous bills.”

“I like my politics, Frank.” Gerard started on his second slice of toast, “ As do you. I’m impressed by your questions.”

“Thank you, sir.” Frank smiled at the praise, “ Uh- the fourth question. Medicare is broke. Social Security is broke. Federal tax receipts are falling, and Congress has already voted on trillions of dollars of stimulus and bailouts in the last year and I’m sure you voted in agreement, sir. The national credit card is maxed out. So, how can you justify voting for a bill that will require even more money that we don't have?”

Gerard eyed Frank, pursing his lips. “What are your thoughts on it, Frank?” Frank sat up suddenly at the change in direction of questioning, but Gerard continued, “Are you so sure I voted in agreement to spend, as you call it, ‘trillions of dollars’ for Medicare when it’s obvious that it’s paying out more legality than actual illness? There are people who are filing lawsuits left, right and center against medical practitioners claiming false detriment and you name it. I personally don’t justify voting on a bill that will only result in a higher tax ratio for the public which will ultimately cause more damage than a proper solution.”

Frank was dumbfounded by Gerard’s answer, he was so sure that Gerard would have voted for and not against, and he could tell that Gerard could see it on his face, making him fidget, “O- Oh uh…”

“Calm down.” Gerard smiled as he took a sip of coffee, “What’s number five?”

“The health-care bill that is being discussed includes huge taxes on businesses to force them to provide more health insurance for their employees,” Frank cleared his throat, “As well as a whole set of mandates telling health insurance companies who they have to cover and what they have to cover them for. This is an enormous increase of costs for businesses and insurers alike, down to the small corner shops and single-owner businesses. Have you considered how they're going to pay for all of this, or whether they will even be able to pay for it? How many of these companies will go out of business or lay off more workers after the government forcibly increases their expenses?”

“Hmm…” Gerard set his cutlery down, “Well now, boy, I have in fact considered it many a time and it is definitely an extensive amount to pay for businesses, both large and privately, tertiary owned. I suppose some will be able to fork out the necessary while others will not depending on their own marking scheme and how well they did both quarterly and annually. The huge taxes on business for health insurance is a valid request from the government, yes, as well as the mandates but it again, vastly de rigueur for the success of a business. It doesn’t help them cutting costs for something this important and then having their vital employees both on layabout from injury or illness, creating an imperceptible slow down that would cost them more money in the end.”

Frank smiled at the end of Gerard’s answer, yet again impressed by the Congressman and the fair point he had made, “Well, yeah, I agree with you on that.”

“You do?” Gerard smirked, “Good.”

“The- The sixth question is,” Frank cleared his throat again, thumbing at the page, “One of the main demands of the health-care bill is that insurers are required to cover people with ‘pre-existing conditions.’. That's like getting insurance on your car after you crash it. It's just a way of getting someone to bail you out for something that has already happened. This isn't insurance, it's a handout. So doesn't that mean that the rest of us will have to pay more for our insurance to absorb the cost of those handouts and what do you plan to do about it, sir?”

Gerard snorted slightly, smirking, “A handout. I like that but I don’t necessarily agree with your initial statement, Frank It doesn’t mean that the rest of the working class will have to pay more for your insurance. It simply means that the people with their pre-existing conditions have not to be discriminated against because of it. It also begs the question of what constitutes a ‘condition’ in the first place. Would it be someone with a susceptibility to colds or would it be someone who is HIV positive? That would mean that the company would have to decide which employee deserves the right to more in-depth insurance than the other and it would almost definitely cause a stir. It doesn’t axiomatically mean it’s a handout but a helping hand in funding those who cannot afford to keep their health in check.”

Frank looked down, scowling in annoyance at the way Gerard had checked and rejected his ‘handout’ theory even if he made a fair enough point, “Seven. The health-care bill will mandate what costs insurance companies have to cover. For example, they will have to pay for routine check-ups and physicals, or they will have to provide every woman with maternity coverage. But what if you don't want to pay for that extra coverage? Right now, if you're young and healthy and don't need frequent check-ups, you can save money with a high-deductible insurance that doesn't cover them. Or if you don't want children, or already have children, you can save money by dropping the maternity rider on your policy. By taking those choices away from us, won't this bill actually make our insurance more expensive, not less and why do you think so?”

“I definitely think it will lessen the cost for those tax deductibles who decide not to cash in their health insurance costs, giving them more money at the end of the month instead of taking it out of their salary per month. Unless the company itself decides differently, it’s more of a freestanding choice.” Gerard nodded as he set his plate aside, cutlery together, wiping his mouth on his napkin as he lifted a hand, signaling their waitress.

Frank looked down, realizing he hadn’t even started eating. He set his notebook down and unwrapped his cutlery before cutting into his food, “Dude, sorry I-”

“Eat.” Gerard ordered simply before adding in a softer tone, “You can read and eat.”

“A lot of people have been upset about Congress passing bills that they haven't had time to read- and they haven't even finished writing the health-care bill yet. But what I want to know is, with a bill this big and complex, have you taken the time to read it and understand it?” Frank put a bite in his mouth and chewed on it until it was small enough that he was able to talk and be understood, “ Did you yourself read it? Can you really say that anyone has had the time to figure out how all the parts will work together and what all of the consequences will be? With a bill this big, is it even possible to figure out all of that and really know what you're voting for and what we as the people should vote for when voting for you?”

The waitress came over and picked up Gerard’s plate, clearing the table, “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”

“I’d love a tall glass of orange juice if you please, dear.” Gerard smiled and she gave a nod, turning and waltzing off before he looked at Frank, who had his wrists resting on the table as he ate, cutlery in hand, “To answer your question, I find it perturbing myself when there are bills passed that haven’t been fully read through which is why I specifically take the time to read them and make sure that I completely and fully understand, discussing it not only with at least three Congress representatives but also with my own campaign advisor. Unfortunately, I can’t say that everyone has read through the current health bill as a whole what with a lot of Congress fanning about to keep in the running, a lot of things have been neglected. And I personally think that yes, it is possible to figure out all of it and really understand what’s been voting for if everyone has a complete understanding. I mean sure, not everyone is believable with, say, a past history but many people in Congress are actually working at making the government a more presumable and dependable party.”

Frank held back a scoff at Gerard’s words, ticking off the question as a tall glass of orange juice was set down in front of the latter. Frank smiled at the waitress as he swallowed a bite of sauced-up egg and cleared his throat, “Can I get a water, please?”

“Sure.” 

“President Obama and the Democratic leadership are making us a lot of promises about what we will get and what we won't get from this health-care bill.” Frank shoveled food into his mouth, chewing as he tried to avoid Gerard’s watchful gaze, “But what is or isn't in this one particular bill is not the end of the story. For example, how many times has Medicare changed over the last forty years? As more and more of us become dependent on the government for our health-care coverage, won't we have to worry about what some future Congress or some future bureaucrat will decide to cover or not cover?”

Gerard lifted up his sunglasses, sliding them into his hair, his hazel eyes now on Frank without separation of a black UV lens. Frank stared at him for a moment, swallowing hard before he grabbed the water that the woman had set down and took a massive gulp, chasing his food as ice cubes hit his top lip. 

“I can’t say for sure how many times the bill has been changed over the last four decades, I’m assuming a fair amount considering you brought it up. As more and more people become dependant on the government for their health care needs it is viable to add in that this question goes hand in hand with your first one, the reason as to why we want to add to the government, make the bill and the mandates more manageable, each piece given to a representative to focus solely on instead of having mistakes made by a massive workload. The future Congress will have to work on the coverage but it seems that there is an increase this year that has people wondering about whether or not the coverage itself is even worth it, making our job even harder as it were.”

Frank nodded, noting the all-around vagueness yet again to Gerard’s answer as the older man put one leg over the other, arms resting casually on the armrest of his chair. He turned, comfortably draped in the chair in the direction of the tape recorder. Frank cleared his throat, “That’s- Yeah, that’s good. Uh, okay. Um- Number…. Ten.”

“Ah, already halfway. A shame really.” Gerard mused, taking his juice in his hands before drinking in a fair sip through the straw, “Go on, boy.”

“The defenders of the health-care bill claim that it's going to lead to all sorts of savings, not by actually cutting any services or denying care, but just by finding 'inefficiencies' that will save money. Do you think this is remotely plausible?” Frank cut into the last bite of his food, “When has anybody ever said, "This project has to be lean and efficient- let's get the government do it"?” Frank looked up as he asked and Gerard twirled his straw around.

“Savings? My dear boy, the entire bill is detriment to the possibility of saving costs rather than again, the high tax breaks. Yeah I suppose lean and efficient sounds good in theory but is it really that good of an idea when you really think about it?” Gerard smiled nonchalantly and Frank set his fork down, wiping his mouth on a nearby napkin, finding himself in admiration of Gerard’s answer, that the politician would seemingly give the public an opinion.

Frank looked over at the older man, his head still trying to comprehend that this man was somehow, what, fourteen years older than him? Sure it wasn’t a geriatric stretch but Gerard didn’t seem as old as he was, not by a long mile. He didn’t seem to even have a solid wrinkle to his face, merely indents where his eyes would crinkle or where his forehead would frown. Frank looked him over once more before he realized he was meant to be talking and he went bright red.

“One of the ways that has been proposed for government-provided health insurance to save money is by substituting Medicare reimbursement rates for market rates when paying doctors and hospitals here in Jersey. You’re from Jersey as I’ve read and the problem here specifically- and in other districts many private hospitals and medical practices have said that if they have to accept these lower rates, they can't cover their expenses, and they will go out of business. So doesn't this bill guarantee an immediate shortage of doctors and medical services and does it affect not only the lower half like the people in Camden and Trenton and the upper class that reside in Chatham and North Caldwell, not just the people in the middle suburbs?”

“Wow, now that’s a question. Good for you, by the way.” Gerard smirked at Frank, who smiled sheepishly as he bit into the last bite of his breakfast, beaming inside that a real and proper politician was giving him kudos, and an attractive one at that, “To be honest, I personally think that if the lower rates are in a per capita and are at a stable percentage that the number of practices and hospitals going out of business will decrease. If a specific percentage is found within each state and kept at a plateau then the hospitals are able to manage it with the market rates that would be implemented. But in saying that, not every state is the same considering in the amount of people and salaries provided and each Congressional district would have to find their own rational percentage to cover the substitution of money for the medical care.”

Frank put his cutlery down as he swallowed, pushing his plate away before he grabbed his water and took another refreshing sip, again so unwholly impressed by the Congressman in front of him and some of the ideas he had, suddenly not even doubting why Gerard had made it into Congress, be it thirty-six or not, he was a fucking genius. Or so in Frank’s eyes.

“Twelve.” Frank gave the waitress a small ‘thank you’ as she took his plate away before he continued, “Medicare cuts costs by paying lower rates to doctors and hospitals, who then shift these costs to those of us with private health insurance, who get charged higher rates. But if the government takes over and starts dictating Medicare reimbursement rates for everyone, who will the costs get shifted to then?”

Gerard raised an eyebrow, “Oh uh,” Frank felt smug at the sudden hesitation from the Congressman, watching as he took his sunglasses off from his head, folding them and setting them on the table before he ran his hand through his bright hair, his watch glinting in the sun, “Well, I think that the costs would most likely get shifted to a multitude of things. Possible tax hikes for one, government intake is also a high plausibility if the bill stands. It may not be a whole cost but a percentage of it, the other tax perhaps? What are your thoughts on it? You seem to have a keen interest in politics.”

“Wh- Me?” Frank blurted out, “Shit I- Oh fuck- Sorry I- Dude-” Frank sighed, chuckling slightly when he looked up to see Gerard smirking at him in high amusement, “I just swore in front of a member of Congress.”

“You did.” Gerard readjusted, swapping a leg over the other, “A rather foul mouth on you, boy.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I think, instead of apologizing like that…” Gerard took a sip of his juice again as Frank’s cheeks lit up, “Why don’t you answer my question instead.”

“But, sir…” Frank tilted his head to the side, “This is all about you.”

Gerard eyed Frank for a second with a small smile playing on his lips before he relented, sitting back up again, “Well then I’m holding you to it… Some other time.”

“Deal.” Frank grinned, “Now, in a previous interview you stated that when the government starting portraying people in the financial industry as villains and started limiting their pay and subjecting them to more regulations, banks reported a "brain drain" as smart and well-educated people left the industry or went overseas looking for better pay and less stress.” Frank looked up from his notes to see Gerard nodding, stroking his chin absentmindedly, almost mesmerizing, but Frank forced his gaze back down, his stomach overly knotted and tense and it had nothing to do with the food, “But the term "brain drain" was originally coined in the 1960s when doctors and medical researchers left Britain to escape socialized medicine. Aren't you afraid we might see the same kind of brain drain from the medical profession here in America and will it affect not only the civilians but people like you that reside in Congress?”

“Oh, I have no doubt that America is going to end up seeing the same conditionary circumstances. It’s almost inevitable which is rather unfortunate, to say the least. It does happen every few decades because the countries in question start to see a stagnancy or even a decline and it affects a lot more than people want to realize or admit. Especially if, in this instance, it will hit the medical profession harder than the rest and it will definitely affect not only the civilians but the Congress.” Gerard replied simply and Frank narrowed his eyes slightly, noting yet again that the politician was dodging a proper explanation and it was starting to somehow also impress Frank that he was able to think so quickly on his feet when it came to answering questions that way. How often did he practice?

“Right, yeah,” Frank took a sip of water, “Fourteen-”

“Frank?”

“Sir?” Frank looked up, his eyes locking with Gerard for a second before he- for reasons unbeknownst- looked away, unable to keep his gaze, “Yes?”

“How old are you again, if I may?”

“I’m twenty-two.” Frank smiled cockily.

“Oh, to be young.” Gerard sighed dramatically, “I thought you were older, you’re rather bright for your age.”

“I’m really not.” Frank snorted, “Dude, Ryan calls me an airhead with no air.”

“There’s a difference between being smart and being intelligent.” Gerard stated with pretension, “Always remember that. A man can be smart and unintelligent, and his brother can be the opposite. Are you sure you’re only twenty-two?”

“Old enough to have responsibilities like an adult and old enough to drink them away, but still young enough to be excited about playing on a swing.”

“You like to drink, Frank?” Gerard cocked an eyebrow and Frank cursed himself internally for sounding so immature.

“Well, I mean, no not really. Once in a while, I guess. I don’t just drink for the sake of it. I don’t hate it but I don’t go out every weekend and get ass-faced.” Frank bit on the end of his pen as Gerard scrutinized him.

“Ass-faced, you say?” Gerard’s amusement sparkling in his eyes again, “Have you ever gotten, how you put it, ass-faced before, Frank?”

“This- I-I mean.” Frank felt his ears go read, “This isn’t about my drinking. This is about health care to Congress.”

“And as a member of Congress, boy, I care about the people and, technically, drinking is bad for your health so my asking is a way of improving the general health care of the district. Showing an interest in your internal organs.”

“My internal…” Frank trailed off with a laugh, grinning brightly, “What a load.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Gerard grinned back, “Ask your next question, boy. I jest.”

Frank stared at Gerard’s face and back down at his page, the grin still on his face, “Do you know the meaning and significance of the term ‘quality-adjusted life year’? ‘Quality-adjusted life year’ is a term used under socialized medicine to determine whether elderly patients are allowed to get expensive drugs or treatments, depending on some bureaucrat's calculation of how many good years they have left. Can you, Gerard Way, assure us that the same thing won't happen here in your district?”

“Of course, I know the meaning. I mean not in complete detail.” Gerard paused then, frowning in obvious contemplation and thought, mulling as he pursed his lips before continuing, “I think I can, with a scrutable amount of certainty say that within my own district I will make sure that the elderly patients are allowed to get expensive treatments without running the risk of the taxing and calculations that come with it. It’s in my highest regard to take care of the people who live within my jurisdiction and the elderly definitely fall under that category. I find it appalling that it would happen in the first place, putting a time limit on treatment of a human being.”

Frank smiled warmly at that, trying not to ‘aww’ at the answer he had just been given, finding it comforting that at least this politician was okay with showing a softer side to him instead of a firm shell that most liked to keep on at all times, almost overbearing, “That’s great.”

“You think so?” Gerard asked, his head tilted as he took the straw of his juice into his lips and took a long sip, swallowing as he set the glass back down.

“Yeah I do, I totally agree with you.”

“I’m glad you do.”

“You gave out an idea last year in one of your speeches to the public that one of your proposals for how the government is going to save money is that it's going to have a panel of medical experts who will dictate from Washington D.C. about what the proper medical practices are that should be paid for, and what practices are supposedly ‘wasteful’ and "unnecessary." but it seems as though nothing came from it. If it did, however, come into effect, won't this mean interfering with decisions that would normally be made by me and my doctor? And won't this discourage innovation by requiring any new idea to get approved by a board of establishment "experts" before a doctor can even try it out?”

“Interesting thought, Frank.” Gerard nodded, looking up for a moment with a squint before sliding his shades back on, creating that elusive barrier that Frank didn’t like between them, “I don’t think it would interfere. When I made this proposal I had multiple people look it over before announcing it and that even though there would be a panel of medical experts who would decide, it would still be within that person’s rights to decide whether or not they would like the treatment. It would be a Constitutional right as a human being to decide on their own health and well-being. It would only be for genuinely serious treatments that the panel would get final say of course, if it were exponentially expensive or risky and whoever is involved would be held liable, would it be worth it?”

“Good point.” Frank nodded, taking a small drink of water, “Sixteen-”

“Frank?”

“Hmm?” Frank looked up to see Gerard turned slightly in his chair, resting on his elbow on the table, supposed hazel eyes on him, hidden from view.

“It just occurred to me,” Gerard toyed with his straw, “A thought, that is, but I think I’m going to ruminate on it for now. Continue.”

“What?” Frank frowned.

“Questions.” Gerard waved his hands impatiently, smiling, “Ask away, Frank.”

“Oh, uh.” Frank looked down at his notes, frowning at the weird interruption before he decided it was best to just leave it be, “Six- Sixteen, Government-run health-care is not some new, untested idea. In Britain, it has led to a ‘postcode lottery’, where the medical procedures you are allowed to get depend on where you live. In Canada, it has led to a shortage of doctors and waiting lists for major surgeries. In America, Medicare ended up costing far, far more than anyone expected. Massachusetts and Maine spent enormous amounts of money to extend government coverage to very few people. The Oregon Health Plan may not cover your cancer treatment- but it will cover assisted suicide. Given all of this experience, what makes you think that somehow this will be the exception that will avoid all of the problems that government health-care has always led to and what are your thoughts not only as a Congressman but as a human being on the difference between cancer and assisted suicide and why do you think it is that way?”

“What a rather heavy question.” Gerard replied pointedly and Frank looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “A good question as it were, yes. But all the more morbid. My honest opinion is that, well,” Gerard paused, a tiny fraction of a frown in his dark brows, “I know that there are many stated where assisted suicide is legal, but somewhere it isn’t. I know that it is legal here in Jersey. It’s a sad factor that one of the reasons is that it’s cheaper. Cancer treatment is an ongoing thing, taking weeks and months to do where it’s expensive. Assisted suicide is a once-off thing besides the psychologist visits. There are also a lot more people who need cancer treatment than there are waiting for assisted suicide in many states. Funds come into it a lot more than people realize. I don’t, however, think this will be an exception in my jurisdiction whether I or my opponent end up being elected as it is a far bigger and more serious suggestion and intention to bring up than, say, helping with health care and litter in the streets.”

“Wh- Really?” Frank was taken aback completely by the honesty of Gerard’s answer, looking at the thin line of the older man’s mouth, the gravity evident rather than the playfulness that had resided there. Gerard was serious, “Shit.”

“I know.” Gerard ran a hand through his hair, “I do know.”

“I, uh,” Frank took a sip of his cold coffee, grimacing slightly before he continued to finish the last bit, “ Mr Way, why does ‘reform’ always mean more government? Are you aware of proposals that have been put forward for free-market reforms of health care? You stated congress has already approved Health Savings Accounts, where individuals buy their own high-deductible health insurance and save money tax-free, which they can use for their out-of-pocket health-care expenses. This gives people more control over their spending on routine medical treatments while keeping them covered for a serious illness, and it allows them to keep their health insurance if they change jobs. But this program has been limited in size. Are you open to ideas like this, for free-market reform of health-care for everyone or for a specific class?”

“Of course, I definitely think it’s a good idea, I mean what ideas and schemes don’t have slight drawbacks but out of all of the concepts and approximations, this idea of the Health Savings program has far fewer chances of high taxes and liable legal actions with misconduct involved when people are able to save their own money, especially if it’s tax-deductible.”

Frank looked up to see Gerard holding the pot, arm outstretched in a silent offer that Frank couldn’t refuse. He smiled slightly, nodding, watching Gerard pour him a cup of coffee, “Thanks.”

“Milk, Frank? Sugar?”

“Uh… Yeah. And two please.” Frank smiled widely at the gesture, watching Gerard make him coffee with skilled hands, “A lot of doctors say that medical malpractice insurance is what is really driving up health-care costs. Doctors have to charge more to cover their expenses, and they also have to practice ‘defensive medicine’, ordering unnecessary extra tests just to make sure they can defend themselves in court if something goes wrong. So why isn't tort reform- for example, limiting excessive jury awards in malpractice lawsuits- being considered as part of health-care reform?”

Gerard smiled as he stirred sugar into the coffee idly, “Jury awards? Hmm.” biting for a moment on his lip before he clinked the spoon on the side of the cup and slide it over towards Frank, “That’s certainly an interesting idea but do you think that the public would fork over more money in their taxes to pay people to do their moral duty as a part of the jury? I don’t think asking them for that on top of what they already consider a high tax percentage would go down well even if it’s for medical malpractice.”

“True…” Frank muttered, “Thanks.” He took a sip as Gerard signaled to the waitress for the check before looking at Frank pointedly.

“What else have you for me?” Gerard smiled politely.

“Two left, sir.”

“Good boy.” Gerard smiled, “Go on.” 

Frank felt his cheeks warm up and he looked down at his notepad, biting on the end of his pen, “What part of your decision on this bill, if any, is affected by a consideration for liberty, individual rights, and the Constitution? Would you consider opposing this bill for no other reason than because it gives more power to the government at the expense of the freedom and property rights of private businesses and individuals? Would you consider opposing it simply because it grants powers to the government that is not authorized anywhere in the Constitution and is that only for your district or nationally?”

The waitress wandered over, setting the check down in the middle of the table to which Gerard smiled, letting her take their finished glasses, “A large part of my decision is affected by liberty, I mean it’s what the government is meant to stand for amongst other things of course. Individual rights play an integral part of my decision unless treated unfairly and taken for granted. And as far as opposing the bill if it means less freedom and property rights then of course. I mean I stand by my choice but I wouldn’t think of sacrificing something so important for the public and those involved. Yes, it is an important bill to do with health care, private or no, but what would the point be if there were no freedom of the public to even make that choice?”

Frank nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his coffee, smiling slightly at the moment-back recollection and that he would have to definitely tell Ryan that the Congressman made him coffee. He set the cup back down, “Last question, sir.”

“Go on.” Gerard smiled.

“Thomas Jefferson said, ‘A wise and frugal government which shall restrain men from injuring one another, which shall leave them otherwise free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned. This is the sum of good government’. Notice what is not on his list: government-provided housing, or government-provided food, or government-provided health care. And Jefferson's views on the role of government were widely shared by America's Founding Fathers. So my question is: Please explain where you disagree with the vision of our Founding Fathers, and why. “

“Why I disagree? He does make a fair point where he talks about not injuring one another and taking from the mouth of labor. But you are right, there are government-inclined regulations that he fails to mention, rather pertinent ones and I tend to both agree and disagree on it based on the fact that government-provided housing is important in any district in need. As well as government-provided food or health care.” Gerard took a small pause, “Yes there should be rations and there should be a limit as to how many and who qualifies but it is something that should have been addressed, if it would have been, it could have saved years- if not decades if induced strife- public or government otherwise.”

Frank stared at Gerard for a moment, “That- I mean. Wow, yeah.” 

“Is that all?” Gerard straightened up and Frank nodded, taking the tape recorder from the table, pressing ‘stop’ before checking the tape and putting it in his bag with his other stuff, “I’m glad that I could have helped.”

“You have no idea how grateful I am,” Frank replied when he reached for the check, Gerard’s hand touching his to push him away, making him frown, his hand tingling slightly.

“What are you doing?” Gerard raised an eyebrow and Frank stared at him in confusion.

“I- Paying?”

“And why are you trying to do an inane thing like that, Frank?” Gerard asked as he slid the check towards himself.

“I always do.” Frank reached over, sliding the check back towards himself, his other hand already clutching his wallet.

“Well, I don’t think so.” Gerard put one long index finger on the edge of the receipt and slid it back with a cocky, confident smirk, “This... Is mine.”

“But.” Frank watched it go, still frowning heavily, eyes darting, “But-”

“Frank.” Gerard stated simply, making the latter look up at him, “I said no.”

Frank sucked in a breath and looked down, looking up to argue when he found Gerard’s firm gaze on him still, unwavering over the rim of his sleek sunglasses. Frank scowled, sitting back in his chair, an unnerving twisting feeling in his stomach as he watched Gerard write in the total before opening his wallet.

“There.” Gerard stated with an amused smirk at Frank, “Was that so hard?”

“I-” Frank opened his mouth to argue when Gerard began unrolling his sleeves, catching him off-guard as he watched his hands with curiosity.

“Oh, yes.” Gerard suddenly said, making Frank jump, “You’re going to vote, I take it?”

“Always do.” Frank smiled slightly, relieved at the subject change.

“Good.” Gerard reached back into his jacket pocket before holding his hand out to Frank, who reached out. Gerard placed a button badge in Frank’s hand, “It’s just an electoral badge, no train smash.”

Frank looked down at the badge in his hand and couldn’t help the snort that left him, looking up at Gerard, “Really?”

“I figured if Richard Nixon can be crude and disgusting then so can I.” Gerard grinned confidently and Frank looked down at the sapphire blue badge and written on it, in a plain font were the words ‘Go all the Way, vote Gerard A’.

“It’s brilliant.” Frank chuckled, clutching the badge in his hand as Gerard stood up and took his jacket, shrugging it on smoothly, fixing the collar. Frank took it as a cue and grabbed his bag, stuffing his wallet back in it before he, too, stood up, zipping it closed, making sure he had everything.

“Here,” Gerard muttered and Frank looked up to see the latter walk around the table to stand in front of him. Frank looked up at Gerard with a frown as Gerard took Frank’s hand in his, making his hair stand on end and his stomach jump. Gerard opened Frank’s hand and took the badge from him again. He smirked slightly as he unfastened the back and took a step forward, taking Frank’s jacket in his hand. Frank sucked in a breath, noting Gerard’s musky cologne, a deep leathery scent that climbed through his nostrils like tendrils. Gerard placed the pin through Frank’s lapel before fastening it carefully, his hands laying flat on Frank’s chest as he smiled, “There. Very smart.”

“Thanks.” Frank whispered, his voice cracking in a mortifying manner, making him clear his throat, “Thanks, sir.”

“Oh, anytime, boy.” Gerard took a step back and held out his hand.

“Great to meet you.” Frank took Gerard’s hand.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Gerard purred as he squeezed Frank’s hand, shaking it firmly, his hand warm against Frank’s. Frank shook his hand in reciprocation as his heart rate shot up through the roof, his mouth drying out as he felt Gerard staring him down over the edge of his glasses.

“I-” Frank frowned, Gerard’s fingertips gracing over his wrist before letting go.

“I have to go. But I can’t wait to read that interview of yours, Frank. You’ll do many a great thing, remember that.”

Frank was dumbstruck by the random, sudden praise he had received, offering a faltered smile as Gerard put his hand on Frank’s shoulder for a fleeting moment before walking passed him, sliding with ease around the stuttering mess of a boy before walking through the tables with his head held as high as ever. Frank was still stuttering “I- I- I” as his eyes followed Gerard out of the restaurant. Gerard turned, waving at Frank before he crossed the street. Frank waved back, two seconds too late of course, before flopping back into his chair with a shaky breath.

He felt bewildered all of a sudden, unable to place what had just transpired in the past few minutes, hell, the past what- an hour? He had no idea what had come over him or why he felt like he was running a fever- or that he had run a mile- but he felt completely unnerved.

He looked down at the badge pinned to his chest and up and around him, but Gerard was gone. He let out a small groan, laying his head down on the table with his eyes closed. The politician may have disappeared, but Frank didn’t feel any whim of a better than he should have now that it was over. Fuck knows, he probably felt paramount worse for some reason, reasons he couldn’t fathom.

He opened his eyes, looking down at his shoes, his feet turning inwards as his stomach did the same thing. His hand still tingled from Gerard’s warm touch, still almost like muscle memory feeling the way the older man’s hand wrapped around his. It was an odd sensation, both warm and safe but not. Overbearing, uncomfortable, and totally indiscernible. 

Just like Gerard.


	9. Just Wish He Liked My Tongue

Frank walked out of the restaurant feeling like he had been put through one of the greatest workouts of his life. Congressman Way had left nearly fifteen minutes ago and Frank had found it almost impossible to leave straight away. After he had stood up to thank and bid farewell to the politician, Frank had fallen back into his chair and hit his head on the table with a groan. He had done it, it was over and he hadn’t screwed it up to the point of literal self-combustion. It had its own sense of achievement but there was still a weird churning in his stomach that had not quite settled. It was a feeling on which Frank couldn't quite put his finger. He still felt bad for the fact that he had cursed in front of the Congressman and had been called 'foul-mouthed'. 

All he knew was that he wanted to leave. He wanted to finish his coffee and get the hell out of Dodge. Ryan was at work and Frank knew that he had to find his own way home, but going home early just seemed boring. He left the restaurant and thanked the waitress on the way out. He knew he had to start on the interview soon, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to sit still.

He stood outside of the restaurant with one hand clutching the strap of his bag over his chest while the other hand was stuffed into the front pocket of his jeans. Frank let out a small huff of a sigh as he realized that he had no idea what he was going to do for the rest of his day. Internally, he knew that he needed to do something that was going to assist him in unwinding after what he had been through. 

Frank sat down on one of the benches outside of the small restaurant before he pulled his bag off from around him and set it down beside him. He leaned back on the bench and let out another small sigh, scratching his head as he stuck his feet out to stretch. He caught sight of the fucking atrocious pink socks and screwed up his nose. He sat up and adjusted his jeans until the socks were hidden from view. No one else in existence could ever see them again; it was bad enough that Way had seen them in the first place and Frank so sorely wished that he had gone with his crusty socks instead.

He was looking around and trying to figure out what he wanted to do with a part of his day. Which was slowly starting to look like he was just going to go home. Frank couldn’t think of anything off-hand that he wanted to do in town. He picked himself up off of the bench with a groan and threw his bag back on as he started to make his way towards the nearest bus-stop that was heading in the direction of home. 

He could just work on his article early for once. He wouldn't do what he usually did. He wouldn’t sit on it for a few days like he usually did before he would start panicking about the deadline. Frank continued his walk to the bus stop after having spied it in the distance. He thought about texting Ryan to let him know that he had finished the interview and he was on his way home. He took his phone out and unlocked it with a swipe before he opened Ryan’s text chat and began typing.

Something in his periphery caught his immediate attention and he stopped suddenly, both in walking and with his typing; Ryan and the text he had been writing could both wait. Frank looked up at the shop window and saw the bright red lighting of an ‘open’ sign and the lottery of convention posters and art in the window. He had stopped outside of a tattoo parlor. One of his most frequented, actually. Between this shop and the shop on the other side of town.

It had been just over four months since Frank had been there and had a charming person named Cam pierce his frenum. He had been out shopping with Ryan and had gotten the impulsive itch to get something pierced. Ryan had been frowning the entire time and telling Frank that he was far too reckless. Ryan was so sure that Frank had barely even thought about it before he had gotten it done; and he was right. Frank hadn’t even considered piercing his dick before then and yet, it was a vital need to add to his body mods. He got it because it made him happy. Ryan could frown until he had physically enveloped his own face through his nostrils, but Frank still had yet to regret getting his dick pierced. And Ryan certainly did not complain when the bar through Frank's dick was adding some interesting sensations to his insides on the handful of occasions that Frank found himself balls-deep.

Frank was also pretty sure that Ryan was going to be frowning at him yet again when he came home from work tonight. Ryan would probably end up calling him 'reckless and thoughtless' all over again. The thought didn’t even deter Frank; he felt like he deserved this. Something new. Frank didn’t entirely know what he wanted yet, be it piercing or tattoo that would add to his slowly-growing collection of ink under the skin. He didn’t think twice about his boyfriend as he took a few steps back and strode inquisitively into the tattoo parlor.

The smell of disinfectant and rose-oil hit his nostrils like it always did; a unique event that he loved in this specific shop. There was some chill 80’s synth playing through the speakers and the polished wood floors were reflecting the neon signage here and there. The walls were a clean off-white but covered in artworks that varied from the tattoo artist’s flash-sheets to their own personal art that they were selling- even a few music posters and old tat convention posters. There was no loud buzzing from an artist busy dipping-and-ripping on a customer, and it seemed that the artists were either chilling in the back or keeping themselves busy at their stations. Frank put his bag on one of the poofy sofa chairs in the front waiting section of the shop and began to scan around to gauge what he wanted to get. So many choices that tantalized his brain, like a kid in a candy store. He browsed over the art on the walls slowly, eyeing every piece to see if any of it stood out to him. 

He wasn’t entirely feeling another tattoo just yet. Of course, he had quite a few plans to fill up his skin but nothing seemed to jump out at him. He was definitely in the mood for a piercing. He walked up to the front desk and smiled at the girl with the orange fluffy fauxhawk who sat behind it. She was a marvel to look at and so interesting; her hair was a dull pumpkin-spice orange and fluffed up into a short-styled mess. Her skin was alabaster pale but she had sparkling blue eyes and the most perfect of black eyebrows that she had drawn on with precision. She had a silver stud in each nostril as well as a silver hoop through her septum. Her lips and her eyeshadow were both a different shade of copper and her bottom lip was punctuated with a bright blue opal labret right beneath it in the middle.

She raised a hand and waved at him with her pointed black nails and Frank smiled at her as he looked at the artwork on the top of the front desk. He also really wanted to steal the cable-knit coat that she wore, mainly because of the large rim of fluff around the neck that would probably make him look like a goth pimp. He shook his head and looked at the cabinet of jewelry. The variety of jewelry had him fixed on the fact that he was definitely getting a piercing, but what? That was what he didn’t know. He had options, he knew that, but choosing from what he could get pierced… That was proving to be harder than he thought. This coming from the guy with his lip pierced, nose pierced, dick pierced, ears pierced and stretched. He eyed the long titanium bars and tongued at his lip ring with intrigue. Maybe tongue. It could definitely be a good idea. Though to be honest, Frank knew that he was being highly impulsive so if he wasn’t careful then he was probably going to walk out with a pierced nipple or two.

“You looking to get something done today?” The girl behind the desk asked with a definite accent at which Frank raised an eyebrow. Definitely wasn’t a native accent but he couldn’t quite put a finger on the country from whence it came. Canada, maybe? He looked down once more at the jewelry case before he had decided entirely and thought ‘fuck it’. Would Ryan flip the fuck out when he saw it? Absolutely yes.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, “Dude, I wanna get my tongue pierced. You think you can fit me in today?”

“Give us time to go through the consent form and then we can squeeze you in,” The girl smiled as she pulled out a form already on a clipboard with a pen, “Any identification? Proof of age?" Frank snorted lightly at the request even though he knew she was only doing part of her job; it was still funny. Did he really look like an underage kid sneaking in to get his tongue pierced to be one of the cool kids in school? If that were the case then he would have gotten it done years ago. 

“Are my tattoos already enough for proof of age, dude?” Frank asked as he pointed to his neck and he wondered if he should have just taken his jacket off to show her the nearly-complete sleeve that he had been working on for so long. She scrutinized him with narrowed eyes and he relented, taking his jacket off to show her that he had already gotten quite a few pieces of inkage under the skin.

“Alright,” She chuckled as Frank filled his name on the form, “You’re clearly old enough.” He filled in some contact info and then signed at the bottom with an untidy flourish before he handed the forms back to her. She signed her part on the page and set it aside as Frank handed her some cash to pay for the piercing, “Have you eaten?"

"Just had breakfast." Frank announced proudly and she smiled, stowing the cash away.

"Take a seat. I’ll call you in when I’m all set up.” She smiled and walked away from the front desk into the shop toward a station.

“You’re doing it?” Frank asked and then realized how it sounded as soon as he said it. She turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he balked.

"You okay with that?”

“Dude, of course, I was just used to having Cam do all of my piercings. They're gentle. I don't know your hands.” Frank shrugged politely and she eyed him with a smile.

‘Oh, Cam is off this week anyway. They’re at home with their husband. Got married last week.” She explained before she disappeared into the back part of the shop and started to set up for him. He didn’t sit; he was all of a sudden giddy with adrenaline. His hands were shaking and he had a strange knot forming in the pit of his stomach right on top of his breakfast.

“Ready for you now.” The woman called out a few moments later. He jumped when he heard her voice and grabbed his bag before he walked into the back piercing station that he knew so well. He always felt nervous before a piercing but it wasn’t like this was the worst he’d had so far. The woman with the perfect brows and the long fluffy coat was standing in the room by the piercing table. After such a stressful and tense morning, this was the release of all of it that was necessary. Once it was done, he knew that he was going to feel so much better despite the pain.

“So,” Frank trailed off as he sat on the piercing bed, swinging his legs lazily. He was trying to get himself as comfortable as possible despite how hard the table was beneath him. He lay his hands on the edge of the table as he watched her put on a pair of black nitrile gloves and grab some gauze, “Dude, what’s your name?”

“Mine?” She asked curiously, “Who wants to know?”

“The guy who’s letting you stick a piece of metal through his tongue.” Frank grinned and she chuckled.

“Rachel. You?”

“Frank. Like on the form, y'know? Where are you from? Because I know it’s definitely not Maryland.” Frank remarked with a small laugh that trickled off with his nerves.

“Open.” She instructed and he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. She dried his tongue with gauze, “I’m actually from Canada.” She reached over to grab a pen and a toothpick and marked on the toothpick with the pen to stain it.

“Wow."

“Just checking your veins.” She breathed out as she examined his tongue and then straightened up, “You have a lucky girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?” Frank frowned at her statement and looked at her with his brows furrowed.

“Well, y’know.” She gestured to his tongue with a gloved hand and he went bright pink in the face.

“Oh.” He felt the ruddy color spread to his ears and he looked down at his feet, “I don’t uh… I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Rachel apologized quickly and Frank chuckled, looking at her flustered expression.

“Nah, it’s not something to be sorry about, dude. I have a boyfriend, I’m hella gay… Just wish he liked my tongue.” Frank grumbled. He tried to prepare himself as Rachel got him to stick his tongue out. She marked it with the ink-stained toothpick swiftly.

“You ready?” Rachel asked as she dried his tongue one more time with gauze before clamping it in rounded forceps. Frank nodded in reply to her simple question, grimacing at how cold the steel was on his usually warm mouth-muscle. He shifted again and tried to still himself on the table despite how badly his ass was aching. Rachel came closer with her hand still firmly gripping the tool that had Frank in place.

“Deep breath.” She instructed and Frank complied, taking in a deep breath and as he did, Rachel pushed the plastic-encased needle into the underside of Frank’s tongue with one steady but practiced swipe. Frank wanted to say that it didn’t feel too bad when the needle pierced his flesh and it was true. The first pierce didn't hurt as badly as he had expected. It was when the needle came through the top of his tongue with a pop, it stung like a motherfucker; a painful pinch that made his eyes water uncontrollably.

Frank heard her say ‘and breathe out’ and he instinctively obeyed, exhaling heavily as she pulled the needle out from the bottom of his tongue. The plastic remained, the thin white tube stuck and nestled snugly between the two muscular ridges of his tongue. There was a burn that seemed to seep out from the fresh hole like a slowly spreading wildfire. 

She cut the bottom plastic receptor of the plastic off before she thread the bar through. She pulled the plastic out of his tongue and screwed the ball onto the bar before dabbing at his tongue with gauze. Frank could already feel the swelling. He thanked her when she was done and grimaced when the words came out with a small lisp. She handed him a small complimentary bottle of mouthwash.

“So, try not to play with it,” Rachel began as she threw the disposable hazards away and put the tools into some solution to clean while Frank slung his bag over his shoulder. She put her gloves in the trash and set her hands on her hips, “No spicy or acidic foods and no smoking or drinking for the first two weeks. No solid foods for the first week while your tongue is still swollen. Ice will help with the swelling and you can clean it with warm saltwater. Come back when the swelling has gone down so we can fit you with a smaller bar and then you can change the jewelry in a month’s time.”

“Thanks, dude.” Frank smiled at her, trying his best to ignore the lisp that was now probably going to be a part of his speech for the time being. He thought it looked fucking cool. His tension release had worked wonders and Frank felt so much better now that today had gone as well as it did.

“Hope your boyfriend likes it,” Rachel commented as Frank looked at himself in the mirror. He was most likely going to head home now after buying himself some Coke for his sugar levels. When he walked out into the shop from the piercing booth, he could see an artist setting up his station for a tattoo. Frank couldn’t deny that another tattoo looked sorely tempting, but no, it probably wouldn’t end well. He knew how Ryan was going to respond. Ryan was definitely going to have an absolute embolism when he saw what Frank had done to himself yet again.

“I hope so, too."

~

As much as Frank knew not to play with it, he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t like he was prodding or poking or moving it around. The idea of even touching it right now sent painful shocks through Frank to the point that his leg actually wobbled under his weight. A precursor. A warning sign. Look but don’t touch. Something his mother had instilled in him as a child when he had begun noticing his own genitals.

And that’s exactly what Frank was doing in the bathroom. He was standing there in the en-suite with the lights on and his tongue out in the mirror so that he could get a proper look. His tongue was definitely swelling up now, the muscle hiding most of the lengthy steel bar. He admired the gleam of the jewelry in his mouth. He knew that he could definitely be spending his time in a more productive fashion, but he was in total magpie-mode and the shiny-shiny was definitely more interesting than anything else. 

Frank was also starving and he realized that all he had eaten today was a fucking croissant. Not good. Did they still have that boxed up blender that Ryan's mom had bought them when they first moved in together? Frank really hoped they had kept it. If they did then he could see himself eating his meals blended for the next week.The piercing was sore enough already without him getting it caught on his teeth or knocking it as he had once already. The shriek he had let out was unholy, ungodly and almost like a high-pitched yelp. The pain would go from one to one thousand because of his carelessness.

He opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and found the bottle of painkillers. This endeavor was probably going to hurt more than he wanted to admit or consciously realize. The swallowing and the pills on his tongue were not enticing to say the least, but the idea numb pain receptors sounded like absolute bliss. He also knew in the back of his mind that Ryan would be home in an hour. Frank felt grateful that Ryan hadn’t called him on his lunch break today like he always did. He had texted Frank saying that he was working right through because it was tax season. That was when Frank wanted to weep with genuine relief because he knew Ryan wouldn’t hear his lisp until he got home. He thought he sounded terrible, but there was nothing he could do about it. It was just par for the course. What did Frank expect? To have a piece of metal inserted into his tongue and not have it swell up? 

He made his way downstairs with the bottle of painkillers and wanted so badly to just wolf down a cheeseburger. But no; he went straight to the fridge where he scanned for different beverages. He looked at the milk for a second and grimaced, knowing how bad of an idea that would be. He took out his bottle of water and closed the fridge door with his elbow. At least the water was cold to help with the swelling. All he cared about was the fact that his adrenaline was definitely wearing off and now he was just sore.

He popped the cap from his squeeze-bottle and put two tablets in his mouth, trying to avoid the ball of his piercing. He chased the tablets with the water almost immediately but his movements were still on the side of 'gingerly' rather than 'enthusiastic'. The cool liquid felt like relief, it wasn’t until he went to swallow that the natural reflex-roll of his tongue sent a spike of pain through his jaw. He whimpered and swallowed fully, hissing out in pain as a wince made his face screw up.

“Fuck.” He choked out, waiting and praying for the pills to kick in. He knew he had to keep himself busy with a distraction of sorts. Maybe he would do some work. It was the idea of listening to the congressman speaking on his recorder that made Frank’s stomach churn in the same nervous way it had done just a few hours prior. The way he spoke so eloquently; the way he spoke to Frank, it was just something that made him uneasy and comforted all at the same time. Still, Frank knew that he couldn't completely waste the rest of the day when he was so productive. Or at least, that’s what Frank kept telling himself.

Frank tried to work for half an hour while he listened to his recording and went through the notes he had jotted down at the same time. He cringed every now and again at the way he sounded on tape. He thought he had sounded so confident when he was questioning Gerard, but listening back to his interviewing and the comparison of hearing Way answer him so confidently, it made him realize the immensity of the powerful man to which he had spoken. Just the way he enunciated and conveyed himself to Frank had his mind doing weird things. When Frank heard himself swear on tape, he instantly cringed. He so badly wanted to bang his head on the table. Way had been so refined and so smooth, then Frank had to go and sully their talk with his swearing. And Gerard had to comment on his foul mouth and call him ‘boy’.

There was that stomach-churn again that made Frank instantly shut the recording off and rub his hands across his face with a low groan. His stress was returning in waves; perhaps now wasn’t the time to work after all. Frank pushed everything to one side and reached for the TV remote and his bottle of water. He took another tentative swig of the soothing liquid and just kept on taking small sips. He wanted coffee more than anything; a large mug of coffee would be absolutely perfect. That would probably be one of the bigger mistakes that he would make today. Other than swearing in front of a politician, of course.

He heard the sound of a car engine outside, and the crunch of tires on their driveway, and checked the time on his phone nearby. He knew who was pulling up right on time. Ryan was home from work and was moments away from learning about what Frank had done today, both during and after the interview. Oh, joy. As much as Frank wanted to hide it, he knew he wouldn’t be successful. His tongue was completely swollen to the point that he wasn’t going to be able to hide his lisp. Ryan would definitely know that something was up if Frank was suddenly mute and chose only to answer with nods and gestures. Either way, Ryan would find out. Yes, he knew that what he had done was perfectly fine. He had done it to himself and it was his body. He could do whatever he wanted to his body within reason, it was just that Frank knew that Ryan was going to have some form of opinion on what he had done.


	10. I'm Blaming it on You and Your Tongue

Frank held his breath when he heard keys jingling in the door. He mentally crossed his fingers and hoped that Ryan wouldn’t blow his top when he found out what Frank had done. He knew that Ryan was going to react one way or another, but Frank did hope that Ryan would just roll his eyes and just mention how Frank was being 'Frank'. But this version of Ryan wasn’t the real Ryan, this was Frank’s own in-head creation who far differed from the original. Unfortunately, Ryan in Frank’s head was more okay with his body modification choices than the one who had opened the front door. Frank hoped that real-life Ryan would be a little bit more chilled about the upcoming discovery. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Ryan called out when he let himself in and dumped his keys in the bowl by the front door. He made his way into the kitchen and set his brown briefcase down, “Are you home?”

Frank didn’t entirely know how to respond. He knew that whatever he said to Ryan right now was going to be affected by his swollen tongue. He didn’t want to ignore Ryan but he also didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He didn’t want to make Ryan curious as to why he was talking like Sylvester the Cat.

“Hey, dude.” Frank finally called out from the sitting room and waved his hand when Ryan’s head popped into view. Frank winced lightly at his own voice and was so glad when he noticed that Ryan hadn’t heard any difference just yet. Ryan walked into the sitting room and saw the water bottle.

“What did I say about this?” He sighed as he walked over to the coffee table and picked up the bottle. He pulled a tissue from his pocket to wipe the surface of it, “I don’t like it when you drink straight from the bottle. It’s  _ our _ water. Can’t you just pour some into a glass like a normal person?”

“Thorry.” Frank apologized, wondering how long it was going to take Ryan to notice his speech. Any moment now. Frank knew it. Ryan did notice it and he paused for a moment, still holding the bottle in his hand. He looked like he was about to go and put the water bottle back but he stopped halfway into turning. He frowned at Frank and Frank just stared back, noting how he could literally see the cogs working in Ryan’s head.

“You okay there?” Ryan asked curiously and Frank felt like a deer in the headlights. Shit.

“Mm-hmm.” Frank nodded, his hand instinctively coming up to his mouth to hide it. Even though his mouth was closed, he felt the need to shield himself. He felt like Ryan already knew, even if he didn’t. Frank hoped he didn’t. But he was going to find out. 

“What is going on with you?” Ryan pushed further when Frank covered his mouth, “What are you doing?” Frank tried to play it off, he tried to play it cool but it clearly wasn’t working for Ryan. Frank tried to be more casual about it and not be as obvious about his mouth. Ryan squinted and went to bat Frank’s hand away but Frank intercepted and Ryan frowned, “Honestly,” Ryan snapped a little, seemingly losing his temper and getting a little annoyed with Frank, “What is going on? What are you hiding from me?”

Frank knew that there was no getting around it now. He knew from the moment he had gotten it done that it would happen. But he had hoped that there would be some gap before Ryan would get into his business. Who was he kidding though? Ryan was going to notice pretty much from the word 'go' and it looked like he was already super close. Even if he didn’t notice the way that Frank had a lisp, then he was going to notice the piercing one way or another. Frank sighed and rolled his eyes before he moved his hand. There was a second of pause before he just opened his mouth and showed Ryan his tongue.

“Oh my…” Ryan started as he brought his hand up to his mouth, clearly unable to finish what he had wanted to exclaim. His eyes went wide with shock, staring down at Frank’s swollen tongue and the metal bar that was stuck in it, “What have you done?”

“Goth my tongue pierthed, dude.” Frank stated the obvious as he gave Ryan a small smile because even though Ryan was about to explode, Frank was still ecstatic over his choices.

“When did you-” Ryan began but stopped, sighing as he shook his head, “Do I really want to know when you got that done?”

“Thith morning.” Frank told him proudly.

“Jesus…” Ryan groaned, shaking his head again, turning away from Frank for a split second before he looked back at him, “I assume this was done after you spoke to Congressman Way?”

“No I goth ith done in the middle of the intherview- of courth I goth ith done afther that, Ry. Do you think I’m thath thtupid?” Frank snorted out sarcastically. He wasn’t that stupid. If anything, Ryan was being stupid with his questioning. He had been with Frank right up until the point that he went into the restaurant to meet he congressman.

“I honestly don’t know with you right now,” Ryan sighed at him and folded his arms across his chest, “From where I’m standing, it looks that way. Sounds it, too.”

“Tho, you think thath I’m thtupid?” Frank shot his question back, feeling the annoyance rising in him. The tone in his voice changing even though the lisp was doing a very good job at masking it.

“I honestly don’t know now,” Ryan raised his voice a little, clearly getting just as annoyed. He turned his nose up, “You look ridiculous.”

“I look ridiculouth?” Frank scoffed, “Nithe to thee thath you approve of ith, noth thath I needed your approval buth y’know, having a thupportive boyfriend ith alwayth nithe, dude.”

“I am supportive of you,” Ryan insisted, “Just not when you decide to have parts of your body pierced without saying anything to me.”

“I don’th have to thay anything tho you!” Frank snapped, “Ith my body and I can do whath I wanth with ith.”

“I would never tell you what to do with your own body,” Ryan sighed because Frank was now getting defensive. It was the kind of defensive where Frank really fought in his corner. He was stubborn as hell and when they both got to the point of arguing, Ryan knew that Frank would not back down easily, “I just wish that you would say something to me before you go and get so impulsive with your choices.”

“Whath?” Frank shot back, “Do I need permithion from you before I go do anything thath involvth my own body now? Thorry, Ryan, ith ith okay if I go tho the bathroom? Can I go thake a leak? Can I do thath without having to conthult you?”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculouth?” Frank snorted as he finally got up from where he had been sitting on the sofa. He hated the way that Ryan would look down at him when they argued sometimes. He needed to be on the same level or he felt like Ryan was going to get his way. He was the one being ridiculous now because Frank knew that he was a grown man and he could do whatever the hell he wanted to without having to check in with his boyfriend, “Tho, noth only do I look ridiculouth, I’m now being ith, thoo?”

“Don’t blow this out of proportion-”

“No,” Frank stopped Ryan instantly, “You were the one tho blow this outh of proporthion when you firth saw ith.”

“Then why were you hiding it from me?”

“Becauth I knew exacthly how you would be. Dude, you never juth thmile and go ‘oh thath nice. If it makth you happy, Frank, then be happy’. No, if Ryan dothn’th like ith then no one can have ith.”

“I just,” Ryan closed his eyes as though trying to calm himself down, “Some of them look good. But you’re a person, not an impulsive pin cushion.” Frank also knew why Ryan disliked it. All the germs and bacteria that would get into it because of where it was on Frank. Frank scoffed unhappily and put his hands on his hips, looking away from Ryan, “Look, Frank, I understand that you like to modify your body and yes…” Ryan trailed off, seemingly holding his tongue and it only upset Frank even more.

“For god thake, Ry,” Frank whined, wanting to hit his head against a wall because Ryan was trying to be so parental about it and that was just pissing Frank off more, “I am noth a pin cuthion. It lookth cool, dude.”

“Frank… For shit sake,” Ryan snapped, clearly angry with Frank now. Ryan wasn’t usually one to swear unless he was either furious or having sex with Frank. And both boys knew that the latter was definitely not happening any time soon. That was more on Ryan’s side than Frank. Frank would always secretly hope for some angry sex or even some make-up sex but no, Ryan would take his sweet time to first forgive Frank before he would even kiss him again.

“Yeth?”

“I can barely understand a word that you are saying.”

“Noth my problem, dude.” Frank shrugged, brushing Ryan off far too casually which only annoyed him more.

“I just don’t get how you can consider this action as a good life choice,” Ryan pushed on, making Frank roll his eyes again. It was all about choices for Ryan. Perfect choices that made everything so much easier for him. If Frank was to disturb it in any way then all hell would break loose. Like right now; his was something that Ryan clearly didn’t like and here he was, spouting off his opinion. Frank knew it wouldn’t change anything “It’s clear that you can’t speak properly which is going to affect you at work.” Ryan narrowed his eyes, “How do you think this is going to affect us?”

“Ith thouldn’th affecth uth ath all!” Frank insisted as he threw his hands up, “How could ith pothibly?”

“Well,” Ryan snorted with his arms folded across his chest, “Don’t you dare think I’m kissing you with that thing all swollen and disgusting in your mouth.”

“Ith noth dithguthing!” Frank snarled, seeing red almost instantly. Frank couldn’t even form how angry he was at Ryan. All and every of his words had begun to fail and Frank found himself flapping, searching for the best response to what Ryan had said, “Dude, I can’th believe you’re being like this! Fuck thake Ryan, you’re such... I can’th- God, why do you have tho be thuch a queef over all of thith?”

“I’m not being-” Ryan stopped, cut off when he realized what he had been called. The room fell silent while he processed what Frank had just said. The word finally hit Ryan and he blinked at Frank in shock with his mouth open. There was clear disbelief plastered across his face and something akin to humor in his eyes. Ryan was gobsmacked that Frank had spat when he spoke. The spit had landed on Ryan’s paisley shirt and it must have physically hurt the germaphobe so much.

Ryan grabbed another tissue from his pocket, wiping off his shirt before he threw the tissue away in the trash by the coffee table before he turned to Frank, “Did- Did you just call me a queef… And spit on me?”

“Maybe I did,” Frank spoke, feeling smug over the fact that he had silenced Ryan in the middle of all of this stupid argument, “Tho whath? You’re being a thothal dick abouth thith, dude.”

“And you sound like you have a dick in your mouth.”

“Oh,” Frank laughed at the rich statement that had come from the man who made it his sole vendetta to ban oral sex in the household, “Like you’d know.”

“Low blow, Frank…” Ryan shook his head and tutted his tongue because clearly to Ryan, Frank had gone below the belt and it was probably childish.

“Thomething of a foreign conthept tho you…” Frank shrugged cooly. He didn’t care about what he said now because Ryan had started it. And Frank was going to end it one way or another. If it meant that he was going to get personal then so be it. Nothing and no one, including Ryan, was going to make Frank feel bad over what he had done.

“God sake… I can’t talk to you when you are like this,” Ryan groaned, running his hands through his hair before he paced the sitting room, “And now when you sound like this.”

“You think this ith fun for me?” Frank questioned, “I have ath leatht a week of thith.”

“Not my problem.” Ryan mimicked what Frank had said minus the lisp with a smug smile on his face. Frank wanted to make Ryan literally eat a pillow. He scowled darkly, “You shouldn’t have gotten it done then.”

“Well, thankth for being the thupporthive boyfriend.” Frank thanked Ryan sarcastically, smiling back curtly, his fists clenched. He could not cope with how Ryan was being. If it meant that he was going to have to sleep on the sofa again then he would more than gladly do that. He would put up with the uncomfortable sleeping positions and the whole body aches when he woke up just to prove to Ryan that he was being ridiculous about it. It was Frank’s choice to make. Not Ryan’s choice to decide if he could go ahead and have his tongue pierced or not. He scowled back at Ryan, “I hope you can cope with the facth thath I’m going to thound like Thylvethter the fucking cath for the nexth week.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” Ryan stopped and a small smile pulled at his lips before he let out a small laugh. Frank frowned at the laughter but it didn’t stop Ryan in the slightest, “With what you said and how you sounded, that was funny."

“Ith noth funny.” Frank pouted.

“No, it really is,” Ryan giggled, his anger slowly ebbing away now, “And I’m sorry, but I’m not a queef.”

“You acthed like a queef.”

That just made Ryan laugh more, as much as he was annoyed, the way Frank sounded was funny, “Can you hear yourself?”

“I can, ith annoying, dude.”

“No, it’s funny,” Ryan reassured him. The way he sounded had pretty much nullified how Ryan felt. Frank had actually stopped the arguing. A rarity. Ryan smiled with perfect teeth, “Honestly, I’m not being mean or anything. You’re just making me laugh.”

And as much as Frank wanted to be annoyed about the fact that Ryan was laughing, he couldn't be. The way Ryan laughed was somewhat infectious for Frank. If he laughed then Frank knew that eventually he would be laughing, too. Slowly he was calming down and once he was, then he was laughing along with Ryan, finally finding humour with his temporary speech problem as the two of them calmed down completely. Frank would have laughed properly, but with the fact that his tongue was swollen, it was hurting just to even move his tongue. The painkillers hadn’t gotten rid of all the pain yet and laughing was just making it worse, which Ryan picked up on.

“You okay?” He asked, looking at Frank with concern on his face.

“I’m fine,” Frank waved an insistent hand at him, “Juth hurth to do anything thath involvth moving my thongue.”

“Well, you did get a metal bar jabbed through it.” Ryan stated the obvious, making Frank roll his eyes

“Thankth, I hadn’th notithed…” Frank snorted before he sighed, looking at Ryan, trying to keep the peace but also get Ryan to not be him over this, “Please don’th fighth me on this, dude.”

“I never want to fight with you Frank,” Ryan said honestly, earnestly, “I just wish you had said something to me first. Warned me before I came home and found you like this… Lisp and all.”

“Fine, nexth thime I dethide tho geth thomething done I’ll thell you,” Frank promised him, “But you can’th thoot me down either. Ith my body and yeth, if I wanth to be a human pin cuthion then… Thupport me?”

“Depends on what you’re getting pierced next…” Ryan narrowed his eyes at Frank, looking him up and down as though he was mentally trying to visualize what Frank was going to do next.

Frank made it look like he was deep in thought, hand on his chin, “Dude, I wath thinking of gething a gooch ladder nexth.”

Ryans eyes went wide and the color practically drained from his face, “Please, tell me you're joking…”

“Of courthe, I’m fucking joking Ry,” Frank laughed and tried to ignore the pain from doing just that, “I’m pulling your leg. Just chill, pleathe, dude?”

“Okay.” Ryan nodded, his brunette curls bouncing somewhat as he walked closer to Frank and gave him a hug. No more fighting. Frank hugged him back tightly, smelling the sweet musk of his cologne as he buried his face into Ryan’s neck. 

“Now theeing ath I haven’th theen you thinthe this morning, can I have a kith?” Frank asked with a smile. The last kiss Frank had gotten from Ryan was before he got out of the car. It was a long time to go without such a simple act of affection that he loved. Frank wanted to kiss and make up, show Ryan that after everything, they were still okay.

Ryan winced though, pulling back a little even though Frank was still holding onto him, “With that open wound in your mouth. No, God, what if it’s infected?”

“Ith only juth been done. Ith noth infecthed,” Frank reassured him, rolling his eyes at Ryan’s squeamishness, “Juth thtop being a baby and kith me.”

“But… Frank…” Ryan squirmed, clearly not convinced.

“I’m not going to thtick my thongue down your throath, dude. I juth wanth a kith.”

“Fine,” Ryan gave in despite looking uncomfortable. Frank knew that if Ryan was really worried, which he probably was, he could just go upstairs and clean his teeth. Ryan pursed his lips, “But if I get sick then I’m blaming it on you and your tongue.”

“And who thayth romanthe ith dead?” Frank smirked before he finally got his kiss. 


	11. Muscle Memory is a Wonderful Thing

_ "Well, then I’m holding you to it… Some other time.” _

Frank sucked in a breath as he leaned forward in his desk chair, fingers steepled as he listened to Gerard’s voice on the recorder, his earbuds in, Gerard’s voice right in his head. He frowned, finding his cheeks warming up at the undertone in the Congressman’s voice. He closed his eyes, ignoring his work surroundings as he thought back to that Monday- it was now Friday- and he felt his stomach clench.

_ “Oh, I have no doubt that America is going to end up seeing the same conditionary circumstances. It’s almost inevitable which is rather unfortunate, to say the least. It does happen every few decades because the countries in question start to see a stagnancy or even a decline and it affects a lot more than people want to realize or admit. Especially if, in this instance, it will hit the medical profession harder than the rest and it will definitely affect not only the civilians but the Congress.” _ Gerard’s voice was slightly static over the recording but still as silky and smooth as dripping honey, Frank could picture Gerard’s intensely watchful gaze over the rim of his black sunglasses. Frank was so engulfed by the sound that he barely noticed his phone vibrating in his pocket, thrumming lazily against his thigh. He felt a poke on his arm and he jumped, pulling the earphones out, turning to see Danielle Ross- Ryan’s mom and editor standing there.

“Your phone, Frank.” She smiled and Frank realized she was right, the generic ringtone chiming from within its denim confines. He leaned over, pulling the device from his pocket, noting a number he didn’t recognize.

“Frank speaking, hello?” He replied and looked up at Ryan’s mom standing there expectantly, most likely wanting to discuss his article.

“Frank.” Gerard’s voice replied and Frank felt his heart skip in his chest and he bit his lip, “How are you?”

“I’m- I’m great, thanks. How’s the campaign?”

“I’m in the lead so far.” Gerard stated and Frank couldn’t help but smile, “Listen, dear boy, I know it’s short notice but do you think you can squeeze me in today? I need to see you."

Frank sucked in a breath at the way Gerard had spoken, making something light up in his lower stomach that was anew that he didn’t recognize. He glanced up at the clock on the wall, “Yeah I have a lunch break now.”

“Perfect, where do you work?” 

_ Definitely not. _

“Oh uh- We can meet at the coffee shop down the street from me if that’s okay with you.”

“Nice of you for asking.” Frank could almost hear the smirk in Gerard’s voice, almost like a curling infliction in the end of his sentence, “Which coffee shop will that be?”

“Cafe Rossini.” Frank smiled, “On Smith street.”

“Oh, that’s a lovely place. Great cake.” Gerard replied, “I’ll see you there.”

“Okay, sir.” Frank found himself replying before he cringed at himself. He heard Gerard hum low on the end of the phone before hanging up and he sighed, setting his phone down, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“And that?” Danielle asked, “You know how we feel about personal calls.”

“It was Congressman Way; he wants to see me. Probably saw my article in yesterday’s paper.”

“It was a fantastic article, Frank.” Danielle smiled, “Hubby and I are very impressed with it, I love your questions. Very relevant, very now, and very important for the community. I’m so glad Ryan got you that interview.”

“So am I.” Frank whispered as he turned in his desk chair, excitement bubbling in his stomach, “So am I.”

~

Frank walked into the cafe five minutes later absolutely shitting himself when he realized how casually he had dressed for work, his stonewash jeans ripped at the knees, his old converse and a simple black button up- definitely not the clothes to wear in front of a Congressman. A Congressman who was currently sitting at a table already. Fuck. He was sat inside, in his black suit again, a peach-colored shirt and an interesting red and peach-striped tie. He smiled at Frank when they locked eyes and Frank managed to stumble forward, sliding through tables until he reached Gerard.

“Frank. Have a seat.” Gerard gestured to the chair across from him and Frank nodded, pulling the chair out before he sat down, pushing it in slightly.

“Hi.” Frank cleared his throat.

“So, I read your article,” Gerard smirked and Frank froze, feeling the color drain from his face and butterflies explode through his stomach and lower intestine.

“Y- Yeah?” Frank asked and Gerard nodded.

“I liked it. You write very well, boy.” Gerard smiled as a waiter appeared, notepad and pen in hand.

“Hi, my name is Chad. I’ll be your waiter. What can I get you two?”

“I will have a hazelnut latte.” Gerard handed him the menu and looked at Frank expectantly.

“Oh no, I-”

“Frank…” Gerard’s voice stern with warning, “I insist.”

“But I-”

“You said it’s your lunch break. You need to have something.” He all but commanded and Frank felt himself submit yet again, trying not to whimper like a dog.

“I-” He frowned, “I’ll have… Thame, I gueth.” Frank cringed and looked down. Oh no. Not now, please.

“Tell me, Chad.” Gerard steepled his fingers, obviously not noticing Frank’s change in speech, “What cake have you got?”

“Oh?” Chad looked at the cake display, “We have double chocolate, red velvet, carrot cake, plain and strawberry cheesecake, lemon meringue, and coffee cake.”

“I will have a slice of red velvet.” Gerard looked at Frank, who knew he was defeated before he even opened his mouth.

“Oh, God.” He sighed, craning his neck to look at the display, “I’ll have… That chocolate cake lookth good.”

“Two hazelnut lattes, a red velvet, and chocolate cake?” Chad asked and Gerard nodding, ushering him away as the latter took the menus and walked off.

Gerard smiled politely, “Where was I?” 

“My arthicle.” Frank lisped again before squeezing his eyes shut, a small smattering of color coating over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“Why are you... “ Gerard frowned and Frank let out a groan, “You didn’t lisp before.” Frank sighed before he stuck out his tongue, showing off his new addition to his face jewelry. Gerard raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t notice that before.”

“It’th new.” Frank groaned, “Dude, I’m thorry.”

“Don’t apologize, dear boy. The lisp is quite adorable. And your newest addition looks good on you.”

“No…” Frank groaned, putting his hands over his face, “It happenth and then it dithappears, I can’t control it.”

“Isn’t it annoying?” Gerard asked and Frank nodded.

“Yeah, it’s really difficult to thwallow sometimes,” Frank muttered and Gerard raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips.

“Oh, is it?”

“And to eat.” Frank nodded, unaware of how his previous statement had come across with secondary meaning to the older man across from him, “I’m not allowed solid food so I’m stuck with liquids for now. My tongue hurts so much..” Frank looked at Gerard, who was staring at him with amusement and intrigue.

“You poor boy.” He muttered, “I see what you mean about that pesky lisp; it disappeared there.”

“See?” Frank sighed, “Stupid tongue.”

“I doubt that.” Gerard smirked, “It just needs to be taught what to do, it’ll learn how to handle what’s in it soon enough. Muscle memory is a wonderful thing.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He smiled back at the politician, “It’s a lot better than it was on Monday.”

“Here you go.” Chad reappeared with their lattes then, interrupting Gerard as he opened his mouth to talk. Chad set the clear glass mugs down in front of them along with a plate of cutlery and napkins and disappeared again. 

Frank took two sugar packets, tearing them open and pouring them in, stirring gently as Gerard took a sip of his latte with a smile, “There was another reason I asked to see you besides your fantastic article.”

Frank felt his cheeks flood with pink at the praise from Gerard and he couldn’t help but smile and look down sheepishly, setting his spoon down. Frank tentatively brought the mug up to his lips and took a sip, cringing in agony at the extensive heat that invaded his new pierced hole. Gerard eyed him with slight amusement as though he enjoyed seeing the younger boy in pain but Frank pushed it aside.  “What reason would that be, sir?” Frank asked with a subtle head tilt as he lifted the mug up again.

“I want you to come and work for me,” Gerard stated simply and Frank jerked in surprise, spitting latte back into his cup as his eyes widened in surprise. He had to have misheard.

“I-” Frank set the mug down, “Wait, what?”

“I said,” Gerard leaned in, his eyes locked on Frank, “I want you… To come and work for me, boy.”

“Y-You want me… T-To…” Frank swallowed hard, “Are you theriouth?”

Gerard tilted his head to the side, “Why would I lie to you?”

“Well, I dunno- I mean.” Frank felt even more butterflies break out inside his stomach and he shuddered, taking in a breath, “Why would you wanth me?”

“Why would I not want you, Frank?” He smiled politely, “You have a lot of things for which I find myself looking, dear boy.”

“What would I do- I mean…” Frank frowned, “What position would I be in?”

Gerard thought silently for a moment, fingers drumming the tabletop as he took a long sip of coffee, his eyes alight, “Well,” Another agonizing pause, “I think you’d do well being my assistant.”

Frank sat up straighter in his chair, “Really?” 

“I could definitely use you around my office.” Gerard nodded, smiling still, “Or wherever I need you to be, essentially.”

“That’s-” Frank grinned, “Your assistant. Really?”

“Unless you’re not interested.” Gerard raised a poignant eyebrow and Frank shook his head vehemently.

“I’m just- I’m athtounded really. Me of all people.”

“You know what you’re on about, boy. I like that.” Gerard took another sip, swallowing chastely, “I think you’ll find that the pay isn’t exactly up to a high standard but I do tend to be a nice boss apparently. I reward well to those who do as I say.”

“How so?” Frank frowned, “Like- How so?”

“Depends on what you’ve done and to what capacity.” Gerard smiled, “But in saying that, as nice as I am. I’m not a lenient man either, Frank. You do wrong too many a time and there will be consequences. Understand that?”

“Oh,” Frank nodded, “Of courth yeah.”

“Good boy.” Gerard smiled.

“But…” Frank frowned, his excitement ebbing away, “I already have a job. A job I love, with my boyfriend’s family. I mean…” He sighed, “Dude, it wouldn’t be right.”

“You do have a fair point.” Gerard noted, “Why don’t you discuss it with your boyfriend and see what he says. Frank,” Gerard leaned in, “This is an enormous opportunity for you and you shouldn’t bypass that just for a fair amount of loyalty. If Ryan is as golden as you make him, he would understand that. I can teach you so many things you don’t know yet, in so many ways.”

“So- So, like…” Frank exhaled heavily and looked down before looking back up, “Thith would further my career in politics.”

“If you do right by me, then yes. Further your career and you as a person. Far few have walked into my office doors and I have barely seen the potential in them that I have in you, boy. It’s gravitational to see such passion in things.”

“Oh,” Frank looked down, his cheeks flushed beet red as he fiddled with a loose thread on a hole in his jeans, “That’s- I mean.”

“Rule one should be on how to take a compliment.” Gerard snarked, making Frank grin sheepishly.

“Thanks.” Frank smiled slightly wider when he saw the fond smile that had been reciprocated from the older man across from him. Frank jumped in fright when a sudden slice of cake was set down in front of him, a flash of chocolate catching him off guard, his gaze had been so intent on Gerard’s eyes that he had forgotten where the fuck they were. He muttered a soft ‘thanks’ at the waiter as Gerard did the same, taking his fork in his hand with a small flourish.

“Eat up.” Gerard gestured to the massive slice that sat in front of Frank, “It’s good.”

“Right.” Frank nodded but didn’t make a move yet, his brain still hard at work, “Hang on. Don’t you have an assistant?”

“I do, yes. Brendon Urie.” Gerard stuck a piece of red velvet in his mouth, smiling happily at the taste, “But, unfortunately, we’ve had to let him go.”

“Why?” Frank frowned, taking a sip of coffee.

“Well, he’s rather forgetful and doesn’t know much about politics, and I don’t think he's right for the job. He’s a wonderful boy, around your age I think, if not a year or two older but… His passions lie elsewhere and working as my assistant won’t get him there.”

“That’s an eloquent way of thaying he’s fired.” Frank snickered and Gerard smiled coyly.

“I have a way with my words. Always have.”

“I can tell.” Frank finally stabbed at his cake, “It’s a wonder Lindsey isn’t fighting any competition to get to you. You probably have woman melting most days.”

Gerard raised an eyebrow at that, fork lazily in his hand, wrist bent, “You think so?”

“Totally. Ladies love soppy shit even when they thcream blue, bloody murder that they don’t.” Frank snorted and Gerard couldn’t help the chuckle he let out, nodding.

“I suppose that’s true.”

“To be honest, so do I.” Frank found himself frowning, “Ryan used to write poetry for me in high thchool. Doesn’t anymore.”

“That’s unfortunate. Was he any good?”

“He’s phenomenal.” Frank nodded, “The most amazing stuff.” Frank froze, suddenly, his heart let out a wheeze as he realized, “Why did I just say that to a Congressman? Oh, my God.”

“People tend to overshare with me. It happens. I guess they feel comfortable around me. It’s okay.” Gerard shrugged, “I’m enjoying your lisp, by the by.”

“Yeah I-” Frank’s brows knitted further as he ignored the lisp part, “I guess I do. But I mean, I made mythelf seem such a soppy bollocks, didn’t I? Poetry.” Frank snorted.

“Nothing wrong with admiring something a loved one has done for you.” Gerard stated, “Especially written word.”

“I suppose.” Frank blushed, “I mean- I just…” He exhaled again, exasperated with himself, “You wouldn’t think I’d be like that.”

“I think you are. You’re more sensitive than you let on.” Gerard eyed Frank, making him freeze up, “But as much as you are, you can still take a hit or two, am I right?”

“Well, yeah.” Frank grinned and pointedly stuck out his tongue, making Gerard chuckle brightly.

“There you go, soppy bollocks.”

“Oh, you just eat your cake, Mr. Politithian.” Frank huffed, trying not to laugh when Gerard raised an eyebrow.

“Telling me what to do now? A big boy because you got your tongue pierced?” Gerard asked, his voice chiding and condescending, making Frank instantly go red and look away, his stomach churning.

“N- No.” He whispered, his entire body wishing it would combust as his blush spread to his ears and his neck, “I-I didn’t mean…”

“What?” Gerard asked simply and Frank winced, looking down.

“Nothing. Sorry.” He replied, somehow feeling shameful at whatever had come over him in the past two seconds. Gerard got under his skin way too easily and he couldn’t let it happen. 

He looked up, clearing his throat, seeing Gerard’s hardened gaze still on him, lips in a firm line, “Sorry what?”

“Sorry, sir.” Frank breathed out.

“Eat.” Gerard ordered simply and Frank looked at the cake for a moment or two and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, blocking out the wince that would crack open his face. He didn’t want to upset Gerard any further but also didn’t want his tongue to fall off so he sucked in a breath and took a small bit, carefully sliding it into his mouth as he avoided his tongue and all but swallowed it whole.

He took in a sip of coffee to wash it down, “Gerard?”

“Hmm?” Gerard looked up with a small smile. Obviously, the moment of disrepute was over now that Frank had done as told.

“This job…” Frank began, “Is it a weekday thing or what?”

“It’s like office hours, eight to four. No weekends unless it’s overtime, which you get paid for.” Gerard nodded, “As I said, the pay isn’t much.”

“How much is it?” Frank asked curiously.

“Fifteen dollars an hour.” Gerard nodded and watched Frank frown, trying to do the mental math, “Fifteen multiplied by eight hours is a hundred and twenty a day. So, times that by seven days a week.”

“Uh…” Frank stammered and Gerard merely smiled.

“Eight hundred and forty a week.” Gerard nodded, eating another bite of cake, “Eight-forty multiplied by the three-point four weeks you’d work in a month and your monthly salary is two-thousand, eight hundred and fifty-six dollars.”

Frank choked out, alarmed at the figure Gerard had so casually given him, his eyes wide and mouth open, full of cake, “Wh-?”

“Sorry if it’s not as much as what you’re earning now. As I said, I-” Gerard began but Frank was astounded.

“Are you kidding? I make fucking peanuts compared to thath.” Frank stammered, “Fuck.”

“Well, think about it.” Gerard smiled as he waved over the waiter, holding out the half-eaten piece of cake and requesting a takeaway box and the bill before looking at Frank with a smile, “Lindsey loves red velvet.”

Frank smiled back, “That’s sweet.”

“I have rare moments, yes.” Gerard smiled, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I can’t really think about eating right now.” Frank admitted, “I’ll probably get hungry later at the office and sneak pieces from my desk drawer.”

“Naughty boy.” Gerard chided and Frank couldn’t help but grin as Gerard pulled out his wallet, Chad reappearing with the cake in a container and the bill.

“Can- Can I?” Frank gestured to his own barely eaten slice and the leftover container in front of him and Chad nodded with a friendly smile, taking the plate and disappearing again.

“Right.” 

Gerard set cash down and Frank eyed him, “Still not going to let me pay?”

“Never.” Gerard smiled back politely, “I do, however, need to go back to the office. I don’t like leaving my employees unsupervised for too long. Somehow they’re all both adults and children at the same time.” Frank chuckled at that as Gerard got up, straightening himself up briskly as Frank scrambled to his seat, “You will think about it, won’t you?” Gerard asked as he shook Frank’s hand again, eliciting those pesky butterflies once more that found their way into Frank’s lungs, their hands entwined in a professional greeting for way too long.

“Of courth.”

“Try and let me know by Monday; ponder and mull over the weekend.” Gerard smiled, “But I really have to go.”

“Yeah no, I understand,” Frank muttered and Gerard looked down with a small smile, his finger on Frank’s chest, making him glance down. Gerard’s index finger placed on the button badge Frank had received from him earlier in the week, the pin stuck into Frank’s shirt on his chest. Gerard looked up at Frank with an appreciative smile at which Frank couldn’t help but blush. 

“I await your call, Frank.” Gerard’s voice a lot softer, “I can’t wait to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I…” Frank muttered as Gerard put his hand on Frank’s shoulder before walking passed him, his steps flawless and graceful, confident as ever as he slid through the tables and out the door, hands in his pants pockets. Frank was utterly bewildered, his eyes still unwavering as he lowered himself back into the chair, “Fuck.” Frank was riveting with sudden bubbling excitement and he knew exactly who he wanted to tell first; his heart racing. Ryan.


	12. When Special Occasions Call

“Well this is nice,” Ryan smiled contently, sipping on his usual white wine spritzer, looking around the restaurant before he looked at Frank, “I mean, it’s not Tuesday night 'nice'… But it’s nice.”

“See? We can have a nice time out without it having to be a certain day of the week.” Frank told him, thankful that Ryan hadn’t made too much of a fuss about dinner out on a different day of the week. It was only Friday. It wasn’t like it was completely random and obscure for it to happen on a Friday night. Frank hadn’t even told Ryan why they were out tonight and he just continued to smile smugly at Ryan. Ryan examined Frank closely and he knew that Ryan was trying to guess the surprise. Perhaps, Ryan thought it was something to do with the recent success of his latest article and if that were the case, Ryan was almost right.

“I still prefer date night,” Ryan commented casually and Frank merely rolled his eyes. He had gone the extra mile to ensure that Ryan had a semblance of comfort while they were out on a not-so-Tuesday night. He had phoned ahead and made sure to reserve their usual table at their usual time at the usual restaurant. Frank had even ordered Ryan’s usual drink for him along with his usual meal. Frank was all smiles as he ordered the first thing on the menu that had no meat in it, knowing it would ease Ryan’s mood that Frank wasn’t taking forever to decide. He had even worn the usual shirt he donned on Tuesday nights.

Frank had insisted that they go out, he wasn’t about to announce his huge news over some measly Friday night take-out. Luckily, Ryan hadn’t ruined it. As much as he wanted to blurt it out and tell Ryan everything, he wanted the timing to be right, “Well, with what happened today, it couldn’t wait until next Tuesday, dude.”

“So, what happened at work today?” Ryan questioned as Frank messed around with his cutlery and straightened it around a couple of times. Frank kept trying to reel in the smile on his face and tone it down, but it was starting to be a little obvious and Ryan was probably already suspicious.

“I wouldn’t even say that it happened 'at work' per se,” Frank started, “It was on my lunch break.”

“Are you going to preface this for ten minutes,” Ryan asked Frank pointedly, “Or are you actually planning on telling me what happened?”

Frank wanted to so badly tell Ryan what had happened and why he was so excited but there was still one small part of him that was reminding him that he was dating Ryan. And not only that but he was also working for Ryan’s family. He still loved the job he currently had but knew that he didn’t want to just brush the opportunity aside because of loyalty like Way had offered. At the same time, he had no idea how anyone would take it. Frank didn’t want his excitement and sheer curiosity about accepting the job to be squashed because he was in too deep with Ryan’s family.

“Depends on how you'll react to it,” Frank said quickly as he sipped on his own drink. 

“Well, that depends on what happened to you and if it was good or bad,” Ryan commented simply, running a finger over the rim of his drink slowly.

“Oh, it was good,” Frank reassured him, “Really good. Why would I insist on dinner if it were bad?”

“Cushion the blow perhaps.” Ryan shrugged, “Although taking me out of my comfort zone on a random day of the week is hardly cushioning.”

“It’s a good thing.” Frank nodded and took another sip of his drink when Ryan let out a small sigh of impatience.

“Then just tell me,” Ryan pleaded, his voice nearly whiny, “Please, I can’t wait any longer.”

Frank opened his mouth to tell Ryan what had happened when the waiter appeared at their table with food in hand. He set the plates down in front of them and Ryan smiled politely at the man who had handed him his usual steak. Frank thanked the waiter when he looked at his food with the hope that it was going to be good. Frank had considered getting his eggplant steaks again because he had enjoyed them, but they were rather oily so he went with the vegetable pizza instead. At least he was mixing it up, unlike Ryan who was having his steak and vegetables. Ryan was going through his ritual of pushing his food apart on the plate with his knife.

“So, come on.” Ryan asked once the waiter had gone to help someone else, “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Well,” Frank took a bite of his olive and pepper pizza, he chewed on it slowly, reveling in the taste. He swallowed the bite and looked at Ryan with a wide smile, “I got a phone call at work today. It was from Congressman Way.”   


“Oh yeah?” Ryan urged as he cut into his steak and took the bite from his fork, “What did he want? Did he say anything about the article?”

Frank nodded, “Yeah, he said it was fantastic, dude."

“That’s brilliant!” Ryan beamed at Frank, cutting up his potato, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Frank blushed, “And, he wanted to see me again. So, I met up with him on my lunch break… And…” Frank didn’t understand why he was so nervous about telling Ryan what had transpired at lunch. He had been so excited all evening and now that it was actually happening, he was suddenly nervous.

“And?”

“We had lunch,” Frank started again and sucked in a breath before he decided to just go for it, “And he said that he wants me to come and work for him.”

Ryan didn’t say anything and sat silent and frozen with his hand halfway to his mouth, fork laden with another piece of steak. Clearly Frank’s news was not what Ryan had expected at all, “He wants you to work for him?” Ryan repeated as he blinked, clearly taking in the news when he set his cutlery down on his plate. 

"Yeah." Frank nodded, a grin bursting onto his lips when he noticed how there was a smile pulling on Ryan’s face after the admittance. Frank took it as a good sign and Ryan would be taking the news well.

“That’s…” Ryan trailed off, his mind seemed to be working overtime and it showed on his face, “Frank, that’s amazing!”

“I know, right?” Frank beamed with genuine surprise as Ryan leaned across the table to kiss him and tell him how proud he was of his boyfriend. Frank blushed a rosy pink in his cheeks, surprised by the random display of public affection. Ryan wasn’t usually the one who would be up for kissing in front of people, especially in a restaurant, but Ryan seemed elated. Frank set his pizza slice down, “I honestly didn’t believe him at first, but he told me that I have a lot of things that he's looking for with the position.”

“So, what would he want you doing for him?” Ryan asked as he continued to eat.

“He wants me to be his assistant, I guess. That's all he said.” Frank explained briefly before noticing the frown that sprung up on Ryan's face, “What?”

“But I thought Brendon was his assistant?” Ryan queried, “He’s the one who set up the interview in the first place. Did he get a promotion or something?”   
  
“Nope, he got fired. Apparently he's not the ideal person for the role and all that. I didn't pry."

“Oh, wow,” Ryan’s eyes widened as he took in another bite of food, “So, you’re the new assistant? That’d be amazing.”

“I haven’t told him that I want the job yet,” Frank admitted and he saw Ryan’s mental cogs working. The pros and cons of not only taking the job but if he turned it down, too. 

“I see.”

Frank honestly didn’t know if he was going to take the job or not. He just wanted to tell Ryan and gauge the reaction over it. He wanted to test the water before they could discuss if it was worth him taking the job or not, “He’s giving me until Monday to think about it all.”

“But he wants you?”   


“He wants me.” Frank nodded. How could Frank say 'no' to a job opportunity like this? Quite easily actually; Frank already had a job. He had been working for Ryan's family for so long that the idea of going for another job felt wrong. As though he was cheating in a way, or being tempted by the promise of a better paying job in a field he enjoyed more than just writing articles about town. He had to think about this and act responsibly. He was working for family. 

Ryan was beaming at him, eating his dinner as he continued to question, “So, did he tell you anything about the job? What you would be doing for him and stuff”

“No, not really,” Frank answered, “I mean other than hours- Which would be similar to yours, dude. Y’know, office hours. He told me how much I would be getting paid, though.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ryan raised an eyebrow at that. Frank knew that besides it being an interesting factor; Ryan was an accountant and this would be like a stimulant for that side of him. Frank knew that if he was going to be working for a politician then he had to be earning a good amount, even if he was just to be an assistant.

“Fifteen dollars an hour,” Frank announced and noticed the way Ryan’s eyes went wide.

“That’s more than what you get at the paper,” Ryan's voice pitched with excitement. He paused for a moment to count on his fingers, muttering to himself as he worked it out with rapid-fire like his logical brain would at work. He looked up at Frank with excitement in his eyes, “That’s so much more than what you get at the paper.”   
  
“Oh I know,” Frank nodded through a mouthful of food, “I would actually bring a decent amount home for once.”

“Just think of what we could do if you took the job,” Ryan gasped, giddy like a small child, “Oh, we could finally decorate the place. Or even- Oh Frank, we could finally move into a bigger place.”

“What’s wrong with the place we have now?” Frank frowned, “It looks fine the way it is, and I like where we live.”   
  
“So, you’re telling me if we could afford a bigger place then you wouldn’t want to move?” Ryan chuckled, “We could move into the city if we wanted to, and we'd be able to afford it.”

Frank felt his stomach tighten up a little over the way Ryan was behaving. He didn’t mind how Ryan was already spending his proposed salary in his head, it was just the fact that he was getting so excited about it so quickly. Frank didn’t even know if he was going to take the job yet. He had a devil on his shoulder telling him not to care and just go for it, but the angel on the other side was telling him to stick with family and stick with the paper. He sighed softly and reached out for his drink, hoping that Ryan would just move on from the whole salary side of the job offer and properly consider it.

“Oh, my God,” Ryan gasped, his hand moving to his mouth, half hiding the smile, but even Frank could see it over the rim of his glass, “We could finally get engaged!”

Frank didn’t mean to choke on his drink, but the liquid went down too fast when Ryan said the one word that Frank had not expected. He coughed, trying to remain composed as his eyes watered and Ryan asked if he was okay. He nodded, even though the idea of getting engaged and committing right now was something that made him sweat. Or at least the idea of committing to Ryan in that way. Frank loved Ryan, but the idea of having the same routine with the same person for the rest of his life… The same mediocre sex life with the same things that would have to be done every time or Ryan would not be comfortable. The same Tuesday night date night for the rest of his life. Frank just felt like he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t go through with that. He had done that for six years now and that kind of binding commitment with Ryan was something for which he wasn't ready.

“Slow down, Ry,” Frank tried to calm him by reaching across the table to take his hand, “Let’s not start planning our future just yet. I haven’t accepted the job yet.”

“Why didn’t you say 'yes' to him?” Ryan asked instantly, almost looking insulted.

“Because…” Frank sighed, setting his cutlery down, “I have to think realistically here. I work for your parents. I don’t think they'd be happy if they found out that someone was trying to poach one of their staff members, no matter how much of an opportunity it is for me.”

“I’m sure if you talk to my mom she would understand,” Ryan continued, “She knows how much you love all this stuff.”   
  
“'S _ tuff'  _ doesn’t pay the bills, dude.”   
  
“' _ Stuff'  _ does when it pays fifteen dollars an hour.” Ryan pointed out with an excited smile on his face, “You’ve got to at least consider this. This is such a fantastic opportunity for you.”   


“Alright,” Frank nodded as he took a sip of his cider, “I’ll consider it. Just don’t say anything to your parents, okay? If I'm going to take the job, they can’t know about it until I make my final decision.”

“I won’t say a word to them,” Ryan promised as he began cutting up his baked potato with a wide grin on his face still, “I promise. I won’t breathe a word.”

“Thanks. I need to be sensible about this, whatever I do.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” Ryan agreed with Frank, nodding at him.

A few moments passed between them as they ate and made small talk. Frank eventually asked Ryan about his day but the latter merely shrugged and said that his day was nothing in comparison to Frank. Eventually, the usual comfortable silence fell over the two of them. It was something that Frank had gotten used to because Ryan was so content with it. Frank found that silence drove him mad at the best of times but he let Ryan enjoy it.

Frank had been in and out of his own thoughts, thinking about all the possible outcomes of if he did take the job and if he didn’t take the job. He continued to eat while he thought about it, unaware of his surroundings for a brief moment. Frank had been caught in his own reverie that he didn’t realize what was going on when he felt something brush against his leg. He frowned, pulling his leg away because he assumed that he had just shifted and ended up knocking against the table leg. But no, it was there again and, for a moment, he didn’t know what was going on. It was unusual to the point that when he figured out that Ryan was rubbing his shoe up against his leg, he was a little taken aback. Ryan showing affection in public… Again? What was going on? Frank was almost certain that Ryan had bumped his head. 

“What're you doing, babe?” Frank asked, puzzled. He couldn’t deny that he was silently enjoying it. Nobody could see what Ryan was doing but the action was definitely making a blush crawl up Frank’s neck and cheeks.

“What?” Ryan shot his question back coyly as Frank’s blush increased to include some flustering. Frank knew that Ryan knew exactly what he was doing, and he smiled. Little did Frank know that Ryan was being so affectionate because in his head he had filled himself up with ideas and fantasies of him and Frank forever. He was admiring his hopeful husband to be from across the table, he was feeling rather romantic and affectionate right now. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Frank asked, noticing how Ryan wasn’t taking his eyes away. The word Frank decided on for Ryan was ‘fixated’. Frank felt his stomach twist at the way Ryan was looking at him, all doe-eyed and smiley. Ryan just shrugged and looked down at his dinner to continue eating while the smile stayed glued to his lips.

“Dude, you’re being weird…” Frank commented, taking a sip of his drink.

“Am I?” 

“Yeah, you are…” Frank looked at Ryan, narrowing his eyes, “What’s going on with you?”   
  
“Nothing,” Ryan answered quickly with his smile widening as he took a sip of his wine and eyed Frank almost smugly, “I love you.”

Something was definitely up. Frank stopped mid-chew and watched him with a wide stare. The near-footsie under the table was out of the blue, and even the way Ryan had held his hand from across the table, but this was altogether new.

“I love you, too,” Frank replied. Was Ryan being overly affectionate because of the news that he had told him? Or was Ryan just being different? Or was being different something that Ryan had to do on his own terms? 

~

“I’ve had a really nice evening,” Ryan smiled, sitting across from Frank in the passenger seat of his car. Maybe that content feeling had been brought on by the fact that Frank had added a couple more spritzers to their bill but he wasn’t drunk. Ryan was just happy, “Even though it’s not Tuesday.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

Frank had kept it just how Ryan liked it. So what if they had ended up going out on a Friday night? Ryan still got to sit at his favorite table, order his usual food and drink. Ryan just seemed so relaxed even now as he sat in the passenger. Frank tried to keep his eyes on the road when he felt Ryan’s hand on his thigh. Frank still remembered the time that Ryan had told Frank off for touching his thigh while he was driving, saying that he could have caused a crash if he hadn’t been careful. Now Frank knew why because he was trying not to crash while he felt a hand on his leg squeezing a little. If this was the way that Ryan was saying 'yes' to sex this week then Frank knew that he would be upstairs faster than The Flash on acid.

“I’m not saying that we should make this a regular thing,” Ryan spoke while he paid attention to the scenery that was going past them in a blur, “Tuesday night is still our night.”

“I know,” Frank rolled his eyes and shook his head as he changed lanes on the main street, “This was different, though. Special occasion, dude.”

“That’s true,” Ryan agreed with a nod, “Special occasions do call for routine habits to be dropped.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.” Ryan nodded, giving Frank’s leg another grip with his long fingers, thumb stroking over the dark denim. The same affection shot through Frank and made him grip the steering wheel tighter, wishing that he could speed home. Unfortunately, he knew that if he did, then Ryan would not be pleased. He tried to hold it together as best he could; easier said than done. Especially when the two of them looked at each other and Frank saw the look on Ryan's face. He knew that look far too well. Thank God, they were almost home. Just a street away.

Only a few minutes later and they were home. Ryan was the first one out of Frank’s car and was already walking up the path to the front door when Frank looked at him. He could never deny the attractive appearance of his boyfriend. From his long and slender legs to his slim waist and graceful dancer arms. His angular jaw shrouded by his tightly curled brown hair. Even the woven band around his forehead that he loved to wear was somehow just a little bit more attractive in this light. Ryan turned and looked at Frank over his shoulder as the latter had only just gotten out of the car. Ryan’s legs in their burgundy slacks and his maroon-and-teal paisley shirt under his burnt orange waistcoat. So opposite to Frank in every way from height to demeanor, to appearance and style.

Ryan turned back to the door and pulled his thin jacket tighter over him as Frank locked the car and walked up the path. The smile on Frank’s face was undeniable and playful when a small idea popped into his head to catch Ryan unawares. Well, unaware until Frank wrapped his arms around Ryan from behind. Ryan stumbled a bit in fright and stopped himself from falling forward. Frank couldn’t help the giggle as he pressed his face into the back of Ryan’s neck, breathing him in.

“What are you doing?” Ryan questioned as he tried to turn his head to look at his boyfriend. Frank was far too preoccupied with nuzzling his face into the curls of hair on the back of Ryan’s head.

“What does it look like?” Frank whispered, smiling as he tightened his grip around his boyfriend, “I’m hugging you, dude.”

“Can that not wait…” Ryan tried to talk and tried to move but Frank was intentionally making it difficult and not letting go. Ryan tried to take a step forward with Frank still attached to him. He instantly giggled at Frank, “...until we get inside?”

“Nope,” Frank answered promptly. He stumbled while Ryan continued to try and get to the front door. Ryan fumbled with his keys in his pocket as Frank pressed a kiss to the back of Ryan’s neck and inhaled. He took in the scent of Ryan and let out a content sigh against the soft skin.

“Frank,” Ryan laughed, holding his keys in his fist as he tried to find the right key for the front door, “Frank, just let me open the front door, please?”

They were right by the door that Ryan was about to open to let them both in and continue this where there were no prying eyes. Frank still had his arms around Ryan, holding him with one hand resting on Ryan’s chest as he planted kisses to Ryan’s throat. The smell of coconut and vanilla filled his nostrils. Such a typical 'Ryan' smell that Frank had always liked about him. The scent that made Frank want to just not let go of him. Which is exactly what he was planning to do.

“Frank, come on,” Ryan insisted as he squirmed out of his grip. Ryan knew exactly what Frank could be like when he got all huggy and kissy. It would only lead to one thing. Ryan twisted out of Frank’s grip and spun around to face him, “Let me open the front door.”

“Fine,” Frank pouted as he gave in with a sigh. He stopped and watched Ryan finally get the key into the door and open it for them, “Spoilsport.”

“I'm not a spoilsport.” Ryan protested, feigning shock. Sometimes, Frank did see him as somewhat of a spoilsport, shooting him down on occasion. Blow jobs. Any kind of oral sex. Whipped cream. The list could go on and Frank knew that too well.

"Are too."

“Would a spoilsport put it out there that he wanted to have an early night?” Ryan added with a smile. Frank realized what he was suggesting. Ryan merely chuckled at how flustered Frank instantly became. Frank didn’t know what to say or how to say it, he just nodded before he pointed upstairs.

"Join me, wouldja?"

“I'll join you in a minute, sweetheart,” Ryan told Frank briefly and gave him a quick kiss, “I've got a couple of things to do before I come up.”

“Don't be too long,” Frank told him as he began to make his way, “There's something else coming up that can't wait long at all.”

Frank smirked devilishly to himself as he walked up, hearing Ryan call him a pig in jest. Frank knew that Ryan wouldn’t be calling him that for too long, especially when he came upstairs. Ryan would be wanting the same thing that Frank was also pining after so badly. Maybe not exactly what Frank wanted, because he was dying for a blow job. At least they would nearly be on the same page. Frank went about his business as he headed straight for the bathroom. Frank wondered what Ryan was doing while he brushed his teeth. He attempted to listen, straining to see if he could hear Ryan at all but he couldn’t hear a thing. He shrugged back into the bathroom to spit and rinse, hoping that Ryan would be there soon.

He finished brushing his teeth, spitting the foam into the sink. He rinsed his mouth out as he was still listening and wondering why he couldn’t hear a sound coming from downstairs. He couldn’t hear Ryan making his way upstairs either. Frank decided to continue what he would usually do. He changed out of his clothes and discarded the items in the laundry hamper before going into his drawers to retrieve his pajamas.

Frank had considered going au naturel, lying on the bed propped up on the bed for Ryan to find him when he finally came up. He knew that Ryan would not entirely approve of it; he would probably end up saying he was disgusting. Ryan would be here in a minute or so. Or a few minutes maybe. Frank had thrown on his Korn tee and joggers before sitting on the bed. 

More time passed and he frowned. What the hell was Ryan playing at? He hoped and prayed to God that he hadn’t changed his mind. Five minutes passed and by that point, Frank was getting tired of waiting. He hadn’t heard a sound coming from downstairs. Ryan hadn’t appeared at all and Frank was now wondering what was going on downstairs. Ryan had obviously gotten side-tracked by something as usual. 

Frank picked himself up and went to the door to inspect. Once he was out of the bedroom and in the upstairs hallway, he could hear something. It sounded like Ryan was talking, or at least someone was talking. Maybe Ryan had put the TV on for some unknown reason. Maybe he had misunderstood and was now waiting for Frank to come and get him. When Frank got downstairs he saw Ryan sitting on the sofa and talking, he noted the phone that was pressed to Ryan's ear.

“...yeah I know. I’m so proud.” Ryan chuckled. Frank listened to him talking before he cleared his throat. Ryan jumped on the sofa, looking round to see Frank leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. Ryan paused for a moment, listening to the person on the other end of the phone but Frank had caught him. Clearly he had been longer than expected. 

“I’ll… I’ll have to call you back,” Ryan stumbled, looking away from Frank for a second before he ended the call. He set his phone down on the edge of the sofa and avoided Frank’s gaze until he looked up at him with a smile, “Hey, I was about to come up.”

“Were you?” Frank asked dubiously, “Who called you?”

“Oh, um,” Ryan started and paused for a moment as he chewed on his cheek, “It was nothing. Just a quick call.”   
  
“Who called you, dude?”

“It was just Mom,” Ryan admitted, unable to keep eye contact, “She just called to check up on me.”   


“Uh-huh. You sure, babe?” Frank nodded and he noticed that Ryan had gone quiet. He knew that Ryan wasn’t completely telling him the truth. Telltale signs that Ryan had lied to him. He didn’t lie often, but when he did, he was so easy to read. Ryan merely sat on the sofa with his hands in his lap, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Um…"

“Did you say anything to your mom?” Frank asked. He knew that Ryan had promised not to say anything to his parents about his news, but still, Ryan was something of a blabber-mouth when it came to things about which he had to keep quiet.

“No…” Ryan hesitated, “Of course not.”

“You sure?” Frank questioned as he stepped closer to Ryan, eyeing him. Frank had to admit that Ryan looked nervous; he was definitely holding something back, “You didn’t mention anything to Danielle about my news?” Ryan didn’t say anything in return, his face cast down in an almost nervous manner. Frank’s chest clenched as he pursed his lips, “Ryan… Tell me you didn’t say anything.” Frank half-begged, “Tell me the truth, Ry. Please.”

“I just,” Ryan blurted out as he blanched, “I couldn’t help it. I was so happy for you. So proud of you. I had to say something to them.”

“You promised not to say anything,” Frank sighed, “You said at the restaurant… You said that you wouldn’t breathe a word to them. Ryan… How could you do this, dude?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I just said-"

“What did you say?” Frank cut him off because he didn’t want to hear any of the weak excuses that Ryan would attempt, “Dude, what exactly did you say?” 

“I just said that the guy you interviewed… He was really impressed with you and that, well, he said that he wants you to work for him.”

Frank froze when he heard Ryan admit to what he had done. It was like his stomach dropped to his feet and his thoughts came screeching to a standstill. It was one thing for Ryan to tell his mother that the Congressman was impressed with Frank, that was perfectly fine. But this was far from okay. Frank paced around the living room, his heart racing with the anxiety in his veins. He had no idea what to do or say. He couldn’t even look at Ryan who was sitting quietly on the sofa. Ryan immediately looked away. 

“Frank…” Ryan spoke, “Please, just sit down. I can explain.”

“I don’t want you to explain, dude,” Frank snapped, “I’m pretty sure that you did all of that when you were on the phone.”

“All I said was that he offered you the job. I didn’t say that you were taking it or anything.”

“And that’s enough, Ryan,” Frank snarked, shaking his head before he ran his hands through his hair and tugged on the strands in frustration, “The fact that you told your parents that this guy wants me to work for him, even if they think for a second that I won’t take the job, it’s still there in their minds. Dude, they’ll know that I’ve considered this job offer.”

“It’s not a bad thing-”

“It really is,” Frank laughed dryly and wondered how Ryan was being so naive and short-sighted, “Ry, how would you like it if I told your boss that you had some guy ask you to work for him?”

“This is different.”   
  
“How’s this different?”

“Because they’re my parents and they love you,” Ryan insisted, his eyes brimming with tears as he looked at Frank.

“They may be your parents,” Frank snorted when he realized that Ryan didn’t see it the same way. Ryan saw his parents and nothing else but Frank saw Ryan’s parents as his in-laws, and as his employers. They took him in and gave him a job when he left school, they got him into a career he actually enjoyed and gave him so many opportunities. Frank could easily have thrown it all back in their face, not caring that they had helped him out and got him going with his career. It was like a massive middle finger to the two of them and Frank felt like there were going to be repercussions thanks to their son.

“But they hired me. They’re my employers and you just told them that Gerard Way wants me to work for him!”

“But it doesn’t mean that you’re going to take the job.”

“Ryan…” Frank sighed, “You really don’t get it, do you? You’re so narrow-minded that you can’t even see what you’ve done wrong, dude.”

“But..” Ryan started and then trailed off and it looked as though it was sinking in, “I only told them because-”

“Just stop.” Frank cut Ryan off again and shook his head. He turned away, not even wanting to look at Ryan. Frank knew that he was going to have to do some fucking amazing explaining on Monday morning to appease Danielle and Gregory. He was furious, “Look, I get it. I know you meant well, but I don’t think you realize just how damaging it is for me. I could lose my job over this.”

“My parents won’t fire you over this.” Ryan insisted.

“They easily could,” Frank shot back, “They could think that I don’t enjoy my job. They could think that I'm disloyal or that I’m doing this to get more money from them.”   


“That’s not the case, though.”

“No, of course not,” Frank scoffed, “I’m not an asshole. But this- What you’ve done... Fuck, Ry. I hadn’t even decided if I wanted to take the job or not “

“Well, if you say no to Way then you can tell my parents that,” Ryan smiled weakly, clearly attempting to find the silver lining on the storm cloud that was hovering over Frank’s head, “You didn’t want the job, turned him down, end of story.”   


“But that won’t be the end of the story,” Frank groaned, “Your parents won’t trust me because they will think that I considered leaving the paper to work for Way. They won't see me as a team player."

“But I thought you wanted to work in politics-”   
  
“I haven't decided yet!” Frank shouted, “And now you’ve taken away the time I had over the weekend to decide! God, I’m gonna lose my fucking job over this, I can tell-”   


“My parents won’t fire you.”

“And what if they do?” Frank retorted, “You’re alright. You aren’t possibly about to lose your job. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet. You don’t have to worry about bills and missing payments because you have a job. And even if you didn’t have a job, you still wouldn’t need to worry either! Your parents would support you no matter what. You will always have whatever you want because you will always have your parents' money.”

“They won’t,” Ryan repeated, his voice small and timid, wavering despite the attempt to keep it in check. The venom in Frank's voice had shocked him to the point that he could feel the tears stinging his eyes, “Frank, they won’t fire you.”

“Yes, yes, you keep saying,” Frank groaned, “It’s all you keep saying, and I just… I can’t even look at you right now. You've not only broken your fucking promise- A promise that's not even two hours old, I might fucking add- But you may have singlehandedly gone and fucked up my career.”   
  
“But you got the job offer-”   
  
“That’s not the fucking point!” Frank shouted, making Ryan yelp a bit at his retaliation. Frank glared at Ryan and cursed under his breath before he skulked out of the room. 

“Frank?” Ryan called out as Frank headed upstairs. He knew he would freak out if Ryan followed him. He walked into the bedroom and grabbed the blanket off of the bed and a pillow. He cursed heatedly under his breath and walked out of the room and trudged back down the stairs. 

“Are you sleeping downstairs because of this?” Ryan questioned, confused, “Look, I’m sorry. I meant no harm with what I did.”   
  
“I’m not sleeping down here,” Frank told Ryan bluntly, throwing the pillow and blanket at him, “You are.”   
  
“Are you serious?” Ryan stuttered out once he pulled the blanket away from his face, “Frank, we can talk about this.”

“Nope, I’m done. I don't wanna see you.” Frank said before he turned and headed back to the stairs. He wasn’t going to be the one sleeping on the sofa tonight. Ryan was the one in the wrong, so he could deal with it.


	13. Why Did You 'George' Me?

“You have gotta be fucking kidding me?” Frank asked outright, stopping in his tracks, his phone pressed against his ear as his stomach sank into his almost-threadbare socks.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” She sighed. The editor in chief of the newspaper that Frank worked at, who also ended up being Ryan’s mom, was definitely not sorry, “We’re letting you go.”

“Fuck sake, Danielle- Mrs. Ross- this is all I have. I fucking love this job and you know it.” Frank begged as he flopped down onto the sofa with a small groan, “You can’t do this… Please- I-I love this job.”

“I am, Frank. We gave you the job because you were family; you were like a son to us. We let you into our home, treated you as only a loving family would and it didn’t seem to matter after all this time. You broke my son’s heart with the way you behaved. He told us about the things you said.” She replied simply and Frank grimaced, biting on the inside of his cheek.

“I didn’t- I mean…” Frank began but he trailed off, having no words to say. What could he have said? That he felt betrayed by Ryan for telling his parents that their employee had gotten a job offer? Highly likely to make his situation worse.

“Just hand in your notes and your press badge, and collect your week’s pay, Frank. We’re letting you go. And Ryan wants you to know he’s not sorry for spending the past two nights here.” Danielle replied with a sigh before hanging up. Frank looked at his phone as the dial tone beeped into his ear. He sighed, locking the device and chucking it beside him on the sofa when he brought his legs up against his chest, his toes curling slightly over the end of the cushion.

Ryan left the night that they had fought over Frank’s job because Ryan had done what Frank had asked him not to. Ryan would rather have driven forty minutes to his parents to sleep in his old room than bare graces and sleep on the sofa. Frank had expected Ryan to come home the next day but he didn’t, and Frank had held up his reins, fighting the urge to phone Ryan first. Ryan hadn’t phoned him either, not since that Friday night- it was now Sunday morning. Frank had gotten over himself yesterday when Ryan had left, he had started to get anxious when his boyfriend hadn’t returned and he realized just how much he loved Ryan, but he put his ego first and waited everything out. Apparently Ryan was doing the same.

Ryan was as stubborn as an old mule when he dug his heels in, the slight and slender boy had not a raging temper like Frank did, but had the legs to kick in anyone else’s bravado. Frank wasn’t sure when Ryan would return, hell, he didn’t even know that Ryan had left until he heard Ryan’s car pull out of the driveway, frowning in confusion as he lay in their shared bed all by himself. He was angry, yes, and he had started out being smug about his victory in their argument, and then he had realized that maybe he had been a bit harsh to Ryan because he had been with him for so long and he knew how excitable his boyfriend could be.

But now two days had passed, two days that Ryan had been alone with his parents saying God knows what and Frank’s suspicions had all come to fruition. He had been fired, just as he had predicted much against Ryan’s haphazard nonchalance. Now Frank had to sit back and wonder whether or not Ryan was to blame, had he been so angry and hurt by Frank that he had told his parents to fire him, been the tiny shoulder devil whispering in their ears? Frank shook his head vehemently.

Ryan would never do that, Ryan didn’t have a venomous bone in his body- never had and never will. He was a tall and skinny teddy bear. Frank’s heart sank a little bit more then, at the thought of Ryan, and he looked at the clock on the wall of their living room. It was almost noon now. Frank just wanted Ryan to come back. He reached for his phone, deciding that now would be when he was going to call Ryan and make him come home but then he heard the gate of their small house opening, the mechanisms whirring as the gate slid open, the faint sound of Ryan’s electric car as it pulled into the driveway and crunched over gravel.

Frank thought he’d be elated to see Ryan but the moment he heard the sound of his stupid Tesla, Frank was fucking furious all over again, his face heating up as he stood up and walked into the kitchen, plopping himself into one of the kitchen chairs with his arms folded. He seethed, listening to Ryan get out of the car and close the door. He listened to the sound of keys and doors unlocking, to the sound of the door opening and closing before Ryan appeared in the kitchen archway. Neither spoke for the longest of seconds, staring holes into each other with enough acid to burn through tungsten. How dare Ryan be angry with me right now, the latter thought to himself as he pursed his lips, sliding down into the kitchen chair, waiting to see who would break first in their stand-off.

“Hi.” Ryan finally whispered, his usual soothing voice now icy and snipped, making Frank raise an eyebrow.

“Hello.”

“You look tired,” Ryan commented as he slid his satchel off from around his shoulder and set it down on the counter.

“Yeah,” Frank replied simply, watching Ryan’s every move, feeling his anger rise, even more, wanting only to whack his boyfriend with the nearest object available. The toaster. Frank eyed the appliance in question for a moment when he heard Ryan sigh out loud, his gaze jumped back to the latter. 

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Ryan hit the top of the counter with his hand and Frank rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, believe it, Ross.” Frank fiddled his tongue against the roof of his mouth, feeling the silver ball of his piercing trail over his palet.

“You know?” Ryan looked at Frank with genuine surprise and Frank sighed.

“Dude, of fucking course I know. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I just didn’t expect them to tell you…” Ryan shrugged, “It isn’t fucking fair!”

“Well, it fucking happened, Ryan!” Frank sighed out and Ryan let out a small whimper as he dropped into a chair across from his boyfriend, looking dejected.

“But…” Ryan whispered, “Why now?”

“Well, I don’t fucking know, my dude,” Frank rolled his eyes again, getting all the more irate, “Maybe because you told them?”

“What?” Ryan frowned in confusion and Frank scoffed, looking away, “I don’t understand. What did I say?”

“You-” Frank froze, “You’re kidding?”

“You think this is my fault?” Ryan asked outright, looking horrified as a hand came up to his chest.

“Who else’s, asshole?” Frank asked and Ryan looked taken aback before he stood up and pulled his phone from his pocket, “What are you doing now?”

“I gotta phone them and ask if I said something to upset them.” Ryan frowned as he scrolled through his phone.

“Upset them?” Frank straightened up in the chair, “What about me? You do realize-”

“I hope Steve and Wanda aren’t too mad…” Ryan whispered and Frank paused.

“Steve and Wanda?” Frank asked with a heavy frown, “What do they have to…”

“It’s their restaurant, Frank. Our restaurant.” Ryan looked back at his phone, “I’m so fucking upset that they’re closing down. I-I hope it’s not because of me.”

“The restaurant’s closing…” Frank stated simply, more to himself than to Ryan, wanting all the more to grab the toaster. This is what has gotten Ryan so upset? The damn restaurant shutting down? Never mind his boyfriend getting fired because of his stupid actions, never mind pushing his boyfriend into unemployment, no. Their restaurant was going out of business.

“Crap.” Ryan looked upset, “They’re not answering. Oh, it was me, wasn’t it?”

“Ryan-”

“I feel terrible now, what if-”

“Ryan…” Frank tried again, watching his boyfriend work himself into a tizzy, watching Ryan start to bite his nails like he did when he was nervous or stressed.

“Sweetheart, I can’t believe they-”

“Ryan!” Frank yelled, making Ryan jump and launch his phone clear out of his hand, his eyes wide in fright as they looked at each other, “It’s not your fault- the restaurant.”

“But you said…”

“I got confused. Let it go.” Frank replied calmly, his insides bubbling furiously.

“But I just- I can’t believe it… That’s our restaurant, Frank. And it’s going to be gone soon.” Ryan looked angry, “How dare they?”

“That’s…” Frank sighed, “Yeah. The world’s coming to an end.”

“You don’t seem so upset about it.” Ryan frowned and Frank sucked in a breath.

“A lot of other things can happen that are worse than a closing restaurant, George.” Frank began picking at a piece of skin beside his nail.

“George?” Ryan frowned at the sudden usage of his first name, “Why did you 'George' me?”

“Because you’re a fucking cunt, dude,” Frank stated matter-of-factly.

“That’s not very nice.” Ryan’s head jerked back, his nose scrunching up in disgust, “What the hell?”

“I-” Frank got up and walked over to where Ryan was now standing, “Got fired, Ross. Your mother just phoned me- Yeah that’s right-” Frank added when he saw Ryan’s brown eyes widen profusely, his lips thinning into a grim line, “She phoned me and told me to hand in my shit. I was just fired, Ryan. Do you fucking understand?”

“I…” Ryan suddenly went green, “They really fired you?”

“Oh, like you didn’t know.” Frank rolled his eyes and walked passed Ryan, but felt a cold hand on his forearm.

“Sweetheart, I had no idea.” He whispered and Frank turned, eyeing him heatedly.

“You spend two days there and had no idea that they were going to can me? Excuse me while I grab my phone and call bullshit. I hear it’s a toll-free number.” Frank scoffed and Ryan flinched, looking away, dropping his hand from Frank’s arm.

“I really didn’t. They didn’t even talk to me about it. I honestly didn’t think they would.”

“Well, they fucking did, Ryan!” Frank’s voice raised in volume, “And now I’m jobless!”

“I can try and talk to mom,” Ryan offered, “Get your job back if-”

“I don’t fucking want it back after they pink-slipped me, Ry!” Frank yelled and Ryan sucked in a breath, “Do you honestly think they would, dude? I’d be lucky if I worked in the mailroom. You should have heard the way she spoke to me. Like- Like, I was some fucking poisonous insect under her fucking shoe. Not only did I get a job offer with the guy I interviewed, but I upset you and sent you running. Dude, I’m lucky your parents don’t run me out of town with pitchforks and torches!”

Ryan whispered, “They wouldn’t…” 

Frank sighed out before turning to the stairs to storm up, “I’m going to take a nap.”

~

“Frank?” A voice called his name. Frank let out a small groan, frowning at whoever was waking him from his seemingly short nap, his head filled with clouded sleep, heavy white molasses now sifting into where his dream was, “Sweetheart?”

“Ryan…” Frank groaned, his voice heavy and sleep-filled, “Babe c’mon, I’m tryna nap.”

“But, Frank, I wanna talk.”

“‘Bout what?” Frank managed, his voice still thick with disuse, his brows in a deep frown, “Dude, can’t it wait?”

“I think you should take the other job,” Ryan stated simply and Frank nodded blissfully.

“Yeah. Kinda have to.” He stifled a yawn, “We done?”

“Talking, yeah.” Ryan whispered, “Frank, I feel awful about what’s happened.”

“Y’should…” Frank kept his eyes closed, holding onto the last shred of sleep he had left, clinging on to it with all he had, “Got me fired, you ballsack.”

“Let me make it up to you…” Ryan sighed and Frank let out a groan.

“Later, Ry… You can make me dinner.” Frank tried to roll over when he froze, realizing his legs were stuck under a weight- A warmth.

“You sittin’ on me?” Frank asked, still not ready to open his eyes and face reality, “Why?”

“I said I want to make it up to you.”

“By making me uncomfortable?” Frank finally blinked and looked down to see his boyfriend sitting on Frank’s knees, straddling his legs, hands rested on his own thighs.

“Well no, that wasn’t the intention.” Ryan trailed off and Frank sighed, feeling all the more annoyed at Ryan now considering everything that had happened, and now Ryan had woken him up.

“Then what was?” He sighed softly and sat up on his elbow, stifling another yawn, “Waking me up and making me grumpy?”

“Something I haven’t done for a while.”

“Clip my toenails in my sleep when you think I don’t notice?” Frank asked sarcastically as he raised an eyebrow and reached over, taking a sip from the glass of apple juice he had left there.

“You knew about that?” Ryan asked and Frank nodded, setting the glass down.

“First I was worried ‘cause I thought they weren’t growing, but then I figured it out when I saw the nail clippers on your bedside table.” Frank lay back down, hand resting behind his head, “So, what is it?”

“I just…” Ryan readjusted on his knees before crawling forward slightly, “I haven’t exactly been the most attentive boyfriend lately and I guess I can atone it to work stress-”

“And being a queef,” Frank added, making Ryan purse his lips before continuing.

“-But I also realize that I haven’t been very fair with you sometimes.”

“‘Sometimes’, he says.” Frank rolled his eyes.

“Can you not be an asshole when I’m trying to apologize?” Ryan sat up, folding his arms, scowling down at Frank, who merely grinned, “But yes, I guess.”

“So?”

Ryan leaned in, his lips close to Frank’s, their eyes locking for a second, “I know what I wanna do for you, Frank.”

Frank felt his stomach jolt at the way Ryan was looking at him, his heart picking up its pulse against his ribs. He could have been imagining the sudden honey-ooze in Ryan’s voice- hell, the kid could literally be offering to reorganize Frank’s closet, but Frank was so hard-up that he was reading ‘sex’ into everything. He swallowed, biting on his lip for a moment, “Wh-What you want to do?”

“Uh-huh…” Ryan tucked a thick curl of hair behind his ear before sliding back to where he was, not before his lips barely brushed over Frank’s own, the scent of chamomile and agave hit him with a pungent subtlety. Frank let out a moan, a quiet sound as he watched Ryan move down, long fingers tracing the elastic of Frank’s underwear. And then he finally pegged. The one thing he had longed for, the one thing he begged and asked for, the one thing Ryan perpetually said 'no' to. A blowjob.

Frank sucked in another sharp and shaky breath as Ryan tucked his fingers into Frank’s underwear, the latter lifting his hips as the constraining material was slowly pulled down over his hips and his thighs. Ryan bit his lip, his eyes glancing up at Frank’s bewildered face before they went down to his semi. Ryan reached out, his hand traveling up his thigh to his dick, wrapping a hand around it slowly, stroking. Frank let out a groan, his mouth dropped open as his arm gave out, his head dropping back into the pillow.

He felt himself harden in Ryan’s hand, his agonizingly slow handjob draining Frank’s lungs of every ounce of oxygen. He loved Ryan’s hands on him, loved how Ryan’s touch was slow and tight and skilled, knowing exactly what he wanted. Frank lifted his hips up into the touch as Ryan shifted further down, thighs warm against Frank’s buckled knees, his hand tightening as he stroked up, his thumb circling and flitting. Frank gasped out as a warm breath cascaded over the underside of his already sensitive dick, his stomach uneasy with anticipation, his mind already running wild as he thought back to his last blowjob from Ryan. Before Ryan had become so persnickety about sex, about oral in particular.

Frank wouldn’t have been so fazed about missing out on a blowjob if Ryan wasn’t so damn good at it. Frank was shoved from his perverse thought as Ryan’s mouth took him in, warm and wet around the head of his dick, cheeks hollowed as his tongue swirled flat. Ten times better than he had remembered it being, whether it was because he had gone so long without or whether Ryan was even somehow better than he had been. What had it been- a year? Frank didn’t know, he didn’t care anymore. Ryan’s mouth slid even further down, Frank’s hips coming up to meet him as he let out a groan, the sensation overwhelming, making his stomach ache, the heated coil cranking into a burning heat of wire and sparks. Frank let out a whimper, his hand fisting in the sheets as the other knotted in Ryan’s curls, pushing him further down. He cried out softly as he felt himself pressed against the back of Ryan’s throat, the latter letting out a small moan. 

“Fuck,” Frank whispered, squeezing his eyes shut as Ryan’s mouth slid up, a warm hand pumping before Ryan took him in again, breathing out hot. Frank looked down, whining low in his throat as Ryan looked up at him, pulling off as he ran his tongue down and back up, his mouth open as he slowly and deliberately ran Frank’s spit-slicked dick over his pouted and pink lips.

“Holy shit.” Frank whimpered softly, his eyes widening as Ryan looked away and slid his mouth back down, tongue tracing heavy over the underside, back and forth as his head bobbed, a faster pace that took Frank by surprise. He fell back again, unable to keep himself up as the intense heat began to spread into his limbs, his thigh twitching as Ryan flitted his tongue over the snug piercing.

“Oh God, baby, please, don’t stop.” Frank mewled under his breath, gasping as Ryan sped up, his hand in Frank’s, squeezing as he thread Frank’s hand back into his hair, letting the latter take control.

Ryan let out a small moan around Frank, deepthroating him a second time, pausing as Frank’s hips canted, feeling Ryan’s throat constrict only slightly as he gagged and pulled up. He pulled off, his tongue swirling over the head of Frank’s dick and all the way down. Ryan hollowed his cheeks around Frank again, teeth grazing softly in a way that had Frank cry out and jerk up, cursing under his breath. Ryan reached up, his fingers caressing and massaging, adding heavy sensation that shot up into Frank’s stomach and his brain, turning every single thought and function to a hot mush. He felt his skin tightening, heating up, his cheeks flushed, and way too hot. Ryan picked up his earlier pace, a rapid and rough movement of his head, his mouth working wonders on Frank for God knows how long.

An eternity that was way too quick, but realistically almost fifteen minutes of adulteration that Frank had sorely missed in his life. It was pure bliss; Ryan’s mouth his undoing like it used to be, one of his favorites.

“Fuck- Ry- I…” Frank tried to coherently form a sentence, tried to tell Ryan that he was already too close- his libido on high alert. He tried meeting Ryan in-sync but his body kept tightening up, kept locking in a tense rigor as it chased the climax. The air around Frank was heavy and thick like a steam that his lungs rejected, the light sweat made his shirt cling to him as he pulled on Ryan’s hair guiding him faster and harder, marveling at how Ryan just took it. He felt as though his bones were about to shatter, his organs on the verge of exploding and his brain screaming in frustration when the tingles that had built up finally let go. His coil sprung, the fire in his belly shot out like fireworks and he cried out. His knees buckled as intense shudders wracked his every inch, the ecstasy making him weak as he came in Ryan’s mouth.

“Oh fuck- fuck, yeah…” Frank groaned, riding out his orgasm as he rutted up against Ryan, grinding into his mouth as the lewd mixture of spit and come coated his dick and ran from Ryan’s swollen lips. Frank gasped as he let go, feeling Ryan pull off carefully, the last shock of overstimulation made him jolt and groan.

He blinked, opening his eyes as he looked down at Ryan, his heart hammering violently as his pulse raged in his ears and his toes. Ryan smiled as he carefully got up and walked into the bathroom- no likely spitting discreetly in the sink. Frank knew Ryan was always a spitter but he didn’t care about it; he wasn’t offended. He was just grateful for getting head whether Ryan decided to swallow his load or not. Frank lay there, looking up at the ceiling as he panted, his hand on his forehead as Ryan came in, toothbrush in his mouth.

Frank smiled at him lazily, chuckling weakly at Ryan’s sudden change in behavior, his usual nuance of oral hygiene overtaking his lust. Frank didn’t care, he had finally gotten what he had wanted and Ryan was allowed to brush his teeth if he wanted. Ryan had stated before that Frank didn’t taste bad, he was just uncomfortable with the prolonged thought of sperm in his mouth. Initially, Frank was dubious, but he had learned that after getting a blowjob on the daily back in high school that Ryan was probably telling the truth. Granted, Ryan carried a toothbrush in his blazer pocket even then. Frank still maintained that his come was at least on par, pineapple or not. He pushed away from the weird train of thought as Ryan returned, waltzing smugly back into the bedroom before he lay on the bed beside Frank and closed his eyes, obviously proud of himself.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated simply, “Don’t expect it to be a regular thing.”

“A guy can wish.” Frank sighed, smiling widely.

“Dream on, lover boy.” 

Frank lay there moments later, his brain not quite back to normal as he tried to wrap his head around what had happened, he was still genuinely convinced that it was just a vivid wet dream that his subconscious had dreamed up. He stared up at the ceiling, his body lax as a slow smile crept onto his face again, his post-blowjob haze still yet to wear off.

“Phone call,” Frank remembered, reaching over to grab his phone, Gerard’s number still saved in his contacts. He looked at the time, noting it had just gone one in the afternoon- Not too late to phone someone on a Sunday. He pressed 'dial' and put the phone to his ear, hearing it ring as he tried to sort himself out, try to wipe the smile from his face.

“Hello?” A smooth-as-silk voice answered and Frank felt his stomach do multiple backflips and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly drier than a nun’s vagina.

“Hi.” He breathed, “It- It’s Frank.”

“I was hoping to hear from you, Frank,” Gerard replied and Frank couldn’t help but love the way his name fell from Gerard’s mouth, even over the phone.

Frank bit his lip, “Well I- I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time considering it’s a Sunday.”

“Not at all. I was merely busy with paperwork.” 

“On a Sunday?” Frank scoffed, grinning to himself.

“Oh, I’m always buried in something, Frank.” Gerard chuckled, “What can I do for you, dear boy?”

“I- Well, if your job offer is still available, I accept.” Frank nodded to himself, saying it out loud added a sudden air of finality.

“Oh, do you now?” Gerard mused and Frank resisted the urge to shudder, “Well, good. Can you start tomorrow?”

“T-...” Frank trailed off, suddenly his brain decided now would be the perfect time to jump back to Ryan’s mouth around him, drawing a blank to the older man on the end of the phone call, “Yeah. Oh, yeah.” He breathed.

“Frank…?” Gerard’s usage of his name had the latter jump back into reality and he felt the blush on his cheeks, “Are you still there?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah I am. I’m here.” Frank replied.

“Did you hear what I said, boy?” Gerard asked and Frank wanted to be honest and say no, say the honest truth but at the same time he knew Gerard would be annoyed; he had no idea how long he had been gone.

“The connection is really bad, I caught the gist though.” Frank lied, biting his lip.

“Eight o’clock.” Gerard stated firmly, “I expect you punctual, okay?”

“Y-Yes, sir.” Frank grinned to himself as he looked over to see Ryan roll over to face him, smiling dopily. He reached over, moving a stray curl from Ryan’s face with his finger, “I’ll be there.”

“Good boy,” Gerard muttered before hanging up.

“Was that your new boss?” Ryan asked as Frank set his phone down on the end tablet beside him.

“Uh-huh.” Frank smiled as he turned to Ryan, “I start tomorrow at eight.”

“That’s great, sweetheart.” Ryan smiled fondly as Frank sighed and rolled, pushing Ryan down onto his back as he lay over him, holding himself up, “And now?”

“As fucking great as your mouth is…” Frank sat up and pulled his t-shirt off, chucking it beside the bed, “I’m still horny.”

“Oh, and what am I supposed to do with that not-so-surprising information?” Ryan asked sarcastically as Frank lowered himself back down.

“You’re supposed to say ‘oh, well then let me help you out, you sexy beast’.” Frank grinned and Ryan let out a sudden chuckle, grinning brightly.

“Oh, well then let me help you out, you sexy beast,” Ryan repeated and Frank nodded, his mouth on Ryan’s neck, sucking softly as he took one of Ryan’s thighs in his hand, lifting his leg to wrap it around Frank’s hips.

“I’m surprised at you,” Frank whispered as he let go, looking down at the soft pink mark on Ryan’s pale neck, hearing him shudder a breath when he realized that he was seeing more of the old Ryan; the Ryan he loved in High School. Frank lifted Ryan’s hand up to examine his long artist fingers before he laid a kiss to each fingertip. He heard Ryan shudder a soft breath as he sucked gently on, and raked his teeth across, Ryan’s fingertip before speaking, “You’re not pushing me off and telling me it’s not Tuesday.”

“I’m in a good mood.” Ryan breathed, “And I guess I’m horny, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Frank raised an eyebrow at Ryan, who smiled coyly, nodding, “I suppose I didn’t return the favor, did I?” Frank asked. Ryan shook his head as he pouted.

“You did not.” 

“Now who’s being selfish?” Frank tutted at himself dramatically, “Shame on me.”

Ryan wrapped a leg around his boyfriend’s hips, his erection pressing against Frank as he trailed his hands over Frank’s shoulders languidly, “Shame on you is right.”

“Unscheduled sex it is.”


	14. It’s Not Always About Coming Early

Frank had come to the conclusion that he was very good at certain things in his life. He was good at what he did, and he was more than happy to admit that fact. The only few things he wasn't very good at though, had all ended up happening on Monday morning. The morning when he should have been completely 'on the ball' with his head screwed on. But no; it was like his head had been screwed on like a haphazard coffee jar in a busy office. He might as well have metaphorically fallen out of the wrong side of the bed onto his ass.

Today was a new week, a new day, a whole new career path for him, and it hadn't gone well from the moment that his alarm went off. The horrendously loud buzzer had persistently slammed against his eardrum and wake him with a start. The amazing dream was lost almost instantly as the shock of the alarm forced him back into reality. His hand shot out from under the duvet as he slapped down on the snooze button atop the wicked device that had disturbed him. _Five more minutes_ , Frank thought as the room fell silent. A smile curled on his lips while he snuggled back under the warm blankets. Frank sighed, at that moment he was still half-asleep and barely worried at all about why he had set his alarm so early. It was six in the morning and he was so content and uncaring about anything. He was so comfy and warm that nothing else mattered at all.

"Frank, you up?"

The sound of his name being called out to him had Frank groan and turn, stuffing his face into the pillow. Of course, Ryan was awake and up at six in the morning. Ryan was clearly calling to make sure that Frank hadn't set the alarm off to go back to sleep. The early bird was up and far too energetic at this time of the morning. Ryan could spring out of bed with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step while Frank needed at least half an hour for his brain to kick in and realize that he was actually awake.

"Frank, you don't want to be late on your first day, honey-bun," Ryan called out in sing-song and Frank groaned unhappily, realizing that the events of yesterday were real; not a dream. His mind began to churn and start-up like an ancient computer, booting up with a slow-moving progress bar behind his eyelids. Frank almost expected the old 'Windows' sound to play through his skull, but it didn't and he immediately remembered what had occurred. Frank took in a long inhale of the chilly morning air and sat up in the bed, keeping himself up on his jelly-like arms. He grimaced at the taste in his mouth and mussed a hand through his hair.

"I'm up, Ry!" Frank called back, his voice cracking near the end as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned unabashedly, loudly. Now that Frank was up and awake, the ominous feeling was setting in his stomach. Like the first day of a new school, being the new kid.

"You want some breakfast, sweetheart?" Ryan called up and Frank winced, his lips pursing and pulling down at the idea of food. He could picture Ryan downstairs in the kitchen, probably smiling with excitement and cooking something special for Frank for his first day. Frank could smell that Ryan had been cooking and it smelled somewhat like pancakes. It was Frank's favorite and it was probably doused in syrup and strawberries. The idea of the food had Frank turning his nose up. He could never eat now, he was way too nervous.

"I'm good for now," Frank called back as he threw the covers off of him and swung his legs off of the bed. He then grimaced when he realized that if Ryan had made him breakfast already, his feelings would be hurt. He backtracked, "If you're making something, I'll take it with me!"

"Okay," Ryan called back, sounding relieved. Frank curled his toes into the soft beige carpet and ran his hands through his hair again. He knew that he could not fuck up on his first day, especially seeing as how he had already slipped up before in front of his new boss. And yet, he still offered Frank the job. The Congressman believed in him. Frank wanted to believe in himself but his nerves were doing a number in his self-esteem. He sighed as he picked himself up and headed into the bathroom to shower.

He stood under the stream of hot water and closed his eyes, tempted to go back to sleep in the warmth of the water. He scowled and opened his eyes, grabbing the body wash and his sponge. He scrubbed himself clean and decided that this scrubbing would also be symbolic. He visualized himself scrubbing off the foul mood that wanted to settle over him. He didn't want to be nervous or annoyed as to why he had to take this new job. He wanted to think of it as a bright new opportunity that he could flourish in and show his full potential.

He told himself to expect bumps in the road today and to accept it. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out into the bedroom. He didn't expect the first bump to bitch-slap him so soon. His confidence wavered ever so slightly as he stared into his closet at his clothing, a small 'ah fuck' leaving his lips as he put his hands on his hips. He could feel the water dripping from his hair and usually, he would dry it but right now it was low on his list of worries as he scowled at his clothing. It wasn't even seven in the morning yet and he was on the verge of full-on panic.

He realized that he had absolutely no idea about how he was supposed to dress for his job. He had plenty of clothing and he knew it. He had an abundance thanks to his boyfriend that loved to go shopping. But his job had a casual aspect to it thanks to the fact that all Frank had to do was sit at a desk and write- Occasionally go out to interview people. He could usually get away with sneakers and skinny jeans with a button-up at the paper. This job was probably not as blasé about the dress code. This was a serious job with a serious boss and Gerard hadn't told him what he should wear.

Frank couldn't remember if Way had told him what the dress code was or if there was some sort of uniform. Had he mentioned it? Frank was ninety-nine percent sure that he hadn't, but there was the one percent of his head that was uneasy. Frank continued to search and dig through his clothing, scratching for anything that was even remotely suitable for his first day. He couldn't find anything. Ryan had entered the bedroom to find Frank standing by the wardrobe, in one hand he held a shirt, looking at it like he was trying to decode it and in the other hand he held onto a pair of black jeans.

"You okay over there?" Ryan chuckled as he walked over to Frank's bedside table, setting his coffee down for him before he perched himself on the bed. He watched Frank curiously, narrowly missing the jeans when Frank threw them onto the bed as he cursed under his breath.

"More than okay." Frank lied. He wanted to have this completely under control. Internally he was freaking out because he didn't know what to wear. Jeans with the knees all scuffed up? No, not a good thing to wear. Frank threw them onto the bed along with the other pair of jeans he had discarded moments before. Ryan could clearly see that Frank wasn't okay, but he knew that he couldn't step in and help because Frank was stubborn.

"Okay." Ryan nodded, getting up from the bed because as much as he knew that he could watch Frank rummaging through the wardrobe for God knows how long, he too had to get ready for work. He had to be somewhere and he had offered to drop Frank off on his first day. He went about his usual routine, getting ready for work while Frank continued to silently panic, looking through everything he owned. If only it was simple. If only Frank could pick something out as easily as Ryan had just done. He was already pulling on his mustard-yellow slacks when Frank looked over his shoulder to check what Ryan was doing. That made Frank groan, getting more and more worked up until he knew that he had to say something. He knew that if he kept quiet then he wasn't going to get anywhere, "You sure you're okay?"

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Frank finally said. His voice was full of panic and sheer fear. He was so worried. What he wore today was going to make up break him. He wanted Way to look at him and believe that he made the right choice by hiring him, "Ry, I have nothing to wear today."

"I'm sure you have something to wear," Ryan said encouragingly, coming over to look in the wardrobe.

"Yes," Frank snorted, "I'm sure a 'Dead Kennedy's' shirt is going to be the perfect thing for me to wear. My boss will be so impressed with me..."

"Don't get sarcastic with me, you fucking toad," Ryan told him as he took hold of the t-shirt that Frank had pulled out to make a point. It was tossed to the side like every other item of clothing that had been pulled out, "What have you got?"

"I don't know," Frank sighed, taking a step back to sit on the bed while he watched Ryan start to sort through the many hangers that were still in place in the wardrobe, "You know what my old dress-code was like, dude."

"It won't be the same in your new job, that's for sure," Ryan commented. He found black trousers, but they were jeans and Ryan really couldn't understand why Frank felt the need to make nearly every pair of jeans he owned have holes in the knees. Ryan just screwed up his nose and put the jeans back in place, "You're going to be working in an office. You're going to be an assistant to a politician. You need to be dressed properly all the time."

"So, no casual?"

"You wish," Ryan smirked, looking over his shoulder, "It's going to be completely formalwear and... How do you not own anything remotely normal?"

"Because I used to have a cushy job that meant I could wear whatever I wanted." Frank smiled at Ryan, earning himself an eye roll.

"But didn't you have a suit or something?" Ryan asked. He turned to face Frank, confused, folding his arms across his bare chest, "What happened to the suit you wore when my parents hired you? The black one that was a little big on you. It had the... The wax mark on the ass from the time you sat on a candle at Kevin's party, remember?"

Frank snickered under his breath at the memory of falling ass-first into a birthday cake thanks to half a dozen glasses of chardonnay and a well-timed Mambo No. 5. But he genuinely had no idea unless the suit's disappearance had anything to do with the fact that Ryan liked to have a clear out of all his clothes so he could then go out and buy more. If it had gotten caught up in all of Ryan's old clothes then there was no way that it was even in the house anymore. That suit was long gone.

"You looked great in that suit," Ryan commented, "Why don't you seem to have it anymore?"

"You sure you didn't accidentally get rid of it when you had your routine clearout?"

"Why would I get rid of a perfectly decent suit? Ass-wax aside, of course." Ryan frowned. Frank knew how Ryan dressed and if there had been any doubt in Ryan's mind or he had completely forgotten who owned the suit in question, he would have gotten rid of it. Ryan was not one for black suits. He had to dress formally for work, but his choice in clothing was a lot more colorful.

"Well, I'm fucked," Frank declared, flopping onto the bed. He covered his face with his hands, "It's not even seven and I'm already on my first fucking crisis."

"I don't understand," Ryan sighed, shaking his head at Frank, "Why in the world did you say 'yes' to starting today when you knew you were this unprepared?"

"I didn't know I was this unprepared," Frank admitted that much. Not quite admitting that he had other things on his mind yesterday when he had been on the phone to his new boss.

"Why didn't you tell him you needed a few days to get ready?"

"He was persuasive."

"Really? How was he persuasive?" Ryan went to scratch for a shirt of his own. Frank paused. The way Gerard spoke to him was very persuasive. Just the tone of his voice and the way he called him 'boy', it was enough to have Frank practically begging to start his job on Monday. Just the way his new boss spoke to him did a number on his stomach churn in a way that Frank had to admit, it was rather nice to feel.

"Look, let's just focus on the fact that I have to start my new job very soon and I really don't think my new boss'll appreciate me turning up in what I'm wearing right now." Frank groaned, pointing down to the damp towel that hung on his hips.

"Will you relax?" Ryan told him, walking over to where he kept his work clothes, "I've got you."

"How?" Frank asked, lifting his head to watch Ryan, wondering what he was doing as he began to dig around. The rummaging took a minute or so before Ryan turned around, holding out something that he thought was perfectly suitable for Frank to wear on his first day.

"Are you serious?" Frank sputtered when he saw what Ryan was holding. The wash of so much plaid on a coat hanger made him feel uneasy. Frank just fought back a grimace as Ryan smiled, laying the trousers and waistcoat down onto the bed next to him.

"What's wrong with it?" Ryan asked, turning back to find a shirt that would go with it, "I wear this to work."

"I can't wear your clothes to work."

"What other choice do you have?" Ryan chuckled, pulling out a white shirt. If only it was just a white shirt. Maybe that would have toned down the outfit, but no, Ryan had to go and pull out yet another fashion faux pas. The shirt was white with vertical blue-grey stripes and Frank really couldn't tell if there was beige in there somehow. The shirt was hideous and the thought of it being paired with the burnt sienna plaid pants-and-waistcoat that Ryan had handed to him. Just no. Never. Hell, Frank knew he had very little fashion sense, but at least he knew that he would never wear plaid.

"I'm sure he'll understand if I turn up in jeans and a shirt-"

"No," Ryan shook his head, handing Frank the hideous shirt, "First impressions are so important. You can't mess it up. You have to be formal."

"Okay..." Frank said uneasily, taking the shirt in hand, fighting back the look on his face. Lending him socks the other week, fine, they hadn't been the greatest sock choice, but this was a whole outfit. Frank couldn't hide this. He was going to stick out so much. Frank felt like he was going to be eaten alive for wearing something as hideous as what Ryan had given him.

"What?" Ryan asked, sensing the tone of the okay. Frank was uneasy; he wasn't even jumping up to get dressed. He just sat there, holding onto the shirt. Ryan eyed the lack of movement, "What, sweetheart?"

"Nothing," Frank told him, tugging the hanger out as he made eye contact with the rich brown and grey plaid pants that had been laid out for him, "What?"

"You look like I've just handed you skidmark underwear," Ryan said as he went back to getting dressed, shrugging on a forest green paisley shirt, "What's wrong with the shirt?"

"There's nothing wrong with the shirt-"

"Then why is your facial expression the same as it was when I made you wear my lucky socks?" Frank looked at the shirt in hand and at his boyfriend again. The pure disgust and fear of actually turning up to his first day on the job wearing full-plaid and stripes had him queasy. It was either this or nothing. The towel around his waist look was definitely not a good choice.

"I don't have a _look_ on my face," Frank reassured him, finally standing up. He tossed his towel into the wash basket before he started to get dressed. They had to leave very soon so Frank knew that he couldn't mess around getting ready. Frank could not be late on his first day. He didn't want his new boss to be mad at him, especially with his whole 'consequences' tangent that had been stated over lunch.

Frank tried to look casual as he fastened the buttons of the shirt. Now that it was on, he thought that he could have worn the shirt itself with a plain pair of jeans but then he looked up to see Ryan smiling at him expectantly as he fastened his mustard yellow tie. They looked like a pair of fucking clowns in Frank's head. Ryan looked like a piece of corn and Frank looked a piece of shit. The two of them appeared to have been wrapped up in the 80's section of Jo-Ann's fabric store and walked out in whatever they had blindly pulled on. Mustard yellow and dark green, brown, and blue plaid between the two of them made Frank slightly seasick. He pulled the matching waistcoat on over his shirt and stuffed his hands into his pockets, scowling a little.

"You look so cute." Ryan beamed as he walked up behind Frank carrying a pair of brown loafers in hand. He looked at Frank's reflection and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Ryan skimmed a hand over his shoulder, brushing down the matching waistcoat, not noticing how Frank was wincing at his own unfashionable reflection.

"Do I?" Frank asked nervously, hoping that Ryan was joking. Ryan would eventually realize what he had done to Frank; dressing him up like some personal mannequin.

"Of course you do," Ryan beamed, "The pants are a little long, though," He commented. Frank looked down and immediately felt himself internally grumble. Ryan just had to be taller than him. Luckily they were roughly the same build, but even Frank felt somewhat vertically- challenged as he looked down at his sock-clad feet, seeing the bottom of the pants all bunched up and baggy, "But you look so smart. The Congressman will be impressed."

 _Yeah right,_ Frank thought, but he kept that to himself, choosing to nod at Ryan, forcing a smile before he bent down to get his shoes. At least he did own a pair of black boots that he could wear. Frank slid them on, going to do his laces up when Ryan appeared by his side again, smiling at him.

"I forgot something," Ryan smiled at Frank when he stood up straight. Frank honestly didn't know what else Ryan could possibly throw at him clothes-wise, but the dark grey and white plaid scarf in his hands was just one item of clothing too far. Why did Ryan own so much plaid? Did he think that it was really going to be a good look on Frank today?

"I'm good," Frank said as nicely as possible. Ryan was giving him one of his favorite scarves to wear. It was like the 'lucky socks' incident all over again, but this time Frank knew to be a little more gentle with his approach. "Thanks, but I think I'll be too warm with a scarf."

"But..." Ryan pouted. Frank sensed the hurt in his voice instantly. Ryan wrung the scarf through his hands, "...the scarf really goes well with the whole outfit."

"Uh..." Frank wanted to protest, but he couldn't when Ryan was already wrapping the fabric around his neck, loosening it off and arranging it with a smile on his face. Frank was deadpan; he stood there with no expression, wondering what he had done in some past life to deserve this entire situation that had rained down on his head like putrefaction. A nice warm bucket of diarrhea poured over his head, his slice of life being served with a side of regurgitation rather than a lovely garden salad. Why could he never have what everyone else was having?

"See?" Ryan smiled, "It really goes. Finishes off the whole outfit." Ryan beamed proudly at his handsome, albeit awkwardly slouched, boyfriend. Fine, the pants were a little too long for Frank, but that just made him look adorable in Ryan's opinion. He stuffed his hands in his pockets uncomfortably as Ryan nodded, happy with how he had dressed Frank for his first day. The first day that Frank was now dreading.

~

"Hi," Frank spoke nervously, having entered his new place of work, walking up to the small desk that sat in the corner of the hallway. A woman with insanely orange-dyed hair in ringlet curls under her ears sat behind the desk, smiling at Frank once he had spoken, "My name is Frank and I, uh, start work here today?"

He hated how he sounded so unsure of himself. He knew that he was supposed to be here. They had got the address right in the car, even though the two of them were unsure if they had found the right place. They had arrived at an oversized single-floor house that was in the right street and was the right number. Ryan had commented on how it was probably some conversion-job. Why have a massive glass office when you could have something more appealing like a house conversion? Ryan had dropped him off, wishing him good luck along with a kiss on the cheek. Ryan was part to blame for the fresh batch of nerves that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He held onto the strap of his bag across his chest with a white-knuckled grip, watching as the girl looked at the screen of her computer. She hadn't batted an eyelid as Frank introduced himself. Maybe she hadn't noticed the plaid and maybe she hadn't noticed the way that Frank had pulled the scarf from around his neck once he was in the building, stuffing it hastily into his bag before composing himself.

"Frank... Iero, yeah?" She asked, breaking away from the computer screen to look at him. Frank ignored the way that she pronounced his surname wrong. Everyone usually did, so he nodded, ignoring the way his mispronounced surname jarred in his head. She smiled at him before pointing to her right, "If you go down the hallway just a little, first door on your right. The office manager will get you all settled in. Welcome to the team, Frank. I'm Hayley."

Frank thanked her and turned on his heel, walking the short distance down the hallway, trying to ignore how his boots made an awful squeaking noise on the wooden floor. He took in how big the place was. On the outside, the house looked huge, but on the inside, it looked and felt so much more how he expected. It was like the kind of place that would be worth far more than the usual price just because of its size. The hallway stretched down to an open-plan room with cubicles in it, and it really did make the house look so much longer than it appeared. Almost Tardis-esque. The walls were plain white with a few abstract pieces of art that Frank couldn't figure out in the mere seconds it took to pass them. He stopped at the door and took in a shaky breath, building up the confidence before he knocked on the open door, getting the attention of the man that was sat in the room.

"Hi," Frank stuttered out. The man in the red and white floral shirt really took Frank by surprise. The shirt looked like it should have belonged to Ryan. At least if this guy could get away with wearing what he was, then maybe no one would bat an eyelid at how Frank was dressed, "I'm Frank, the-"

"New guy, yeah. We were expecting you. Gerard filled us in this morning that you were starting today," The man said, standing up from his desk. The chubby man with the light brown hair, semi-curled mustache, and friendly blue eyes walked over to Frank, extending his hand, "I'm Derek Zanetti, the Office Manager. I'll be taking you under my wing while you learn the ropes, new kid."

Frank already hated the fact that he had barely been in his new job five minutes and he had already been labeled as 'the new guy'. Yeah, he knew it was inevitable, but he did hope that his new coworkers would look passed the fact that he was so new and shiny.

"So, where do you want me?" Frank asked with a semi-confident smile.

"Let me show you around first," Derek said, walking out passed Frank before he signaled for him to follow, "So, opposite my office, you have our filing room. We are trying to get everything digitized but Gerard likes to have physical copies of everything. He's old-school like that," Derek pointed to the room opposite where he had come from, "Then you've got your bathrooms..." He pointed to a set of doors, "Gender-neutral, of course. There was a male and female side each but we're trying out a thing."

"Awesome." Frank smiled at the doors but tried not to think about how nervous he would be if he went in to pee and found some woman in there with him. He pushed it aside as Derek continued down the hall with Frank in tow.

"Next on the left, you have the kitchen. You've got your fridge and the coffee machine and stuff like that. Opposite that is Lindsey's office. She's the Deputy District Director and the Project and Grants Coordinator-"

"Wait," Frank stopped Derek when the name rang a bell in his head. His mind went back to the interview he had done and put two and two together, "Lindsey works here?"

"Yeah," Derek nodded, smiling slightly, "She works here, man."

"As in Lindsey Ballato. Gerard's wife?" Frank asked, still finding it weird actually calling his boss by his first name.

"Yeah," Derek nodded again, almost impatiently, "They work together. They're like the Brad and Angelina of politics."

"Or like Beyonce and Jay Z," Frank commented, feeling a little awkward that he knew this information and that he had just blurted it out. Not correcting, just understanding it in his own way thanks to the knowledge he had learned from Ryan, who was unashamedly a fan of Beyonce. Frank saw Derek's blank expression and added, "Y'know, they're best friends with the Obamas and all into their politics and stuff."

"Right..." Derek frowned at Frank "They just work together. Anyway... At the end of the hall, you have the main work area. The bullpen. Everyone else works here. You've got our Chief of Staff, Ray over there." Frank noticed a man with a wildish frizz of light brown hair holding a hand up to greet him because he had heard his name being mentioned. Frank nodded back, his nerves making a new appearance all over again because he had never expected so many people to be working in this office.

"Then you've got Deputy Chief Christa, Ray's wife," Derek continued with the introductions, letting everyone he mentioned notice that the new guy was here. Frank smiled at the brunette woman, "Cara is our Legislative Director. She works with Matt, Alex, and Rob over there." Frank smiled at the woman with her hair in a long ponytail and gold glasses. She gave him a wink and turned to three men who were all pouring over the file in her hand. Frank couldn't help but notice the one tall man that he now knew as Rob. His height was immense in comparison to Matt beside him, who was probably about the same height as Frank himself.

"Patrick is the press secretary." Derek pointed to the ginger man nearby and then at the chubby guy who was wearing a pair of steampunk goggles on his forehead, "That's James. He's our Computer Systems Manager."

"Someone's gotta keep these machines running." The man Derek had mentioned chuckled, piping up from in the corner to make Derek smirk.

"Ol' Pete over there," Derek pointed to a youngish man, with platinum hair, who looked up and took notice of Frank, "He's our Caseworker. Andy is our Constituent Services Rep." Frank felt somewhat uneasy when he saw the man in question watching him. He had long hair in a ponytail and thick black glasses perched on his nose. He nodded for a second before he went back to working on the stripped PC on the table.

"Our aide is Josh who isn't here right now. You'll meet him tomorrow," Derek informed Frank with a small wave of his hand, "Sarah over there," Derek pointed out a young woman who looked up when she heard her name, "She's one of our Field Reps who you'll be working alongside pretty often."

"Oh," Frank commented, not really knowing what else to say. He nodded, smiling at the person he was apparently going to be working with, but she threw a scowl back at him. Like he had done something wrong, even though he had met her before in his life. He swallowed, "Okay."

"And lastly our legislative counsel is run by Bob and Joe who... Are they on a coffee run?" Derek asked, knowing that they were working barely fifteen minutes ago, but they were nowhere to be seen' their chairs empty.

"Went about five minutes ago." Cara piped up.

"Assholes didn't ask me what I wanted," Derek grumbled, "Anyway," Derek brushed his annoyance to one side, turning on his feet, waving at Frank to follow him back to where they came from, "You, new guy. You come this way."

"Am I not working with those guys?"

"You'll be working in the same office as me," Derek told him before he waved for Frank to join him. Frank entered the room, now noticing the second chair on the other side of the desk that ran alongside the wall, another length of desk separating the workspace for the two of them, "Your desk is all set up. You have direct lines to everyone on your phone, computer all ready to go..."

Their office was small and cozy, desks a white laminate that contrasted with the invigoratingly crisp apple green on two of the walls, the other two an off-white and lined with shelves of books and miscellaneous work-related clutter. Frank set his bag down on his desk beside the computer, "What do you want me to get started on first? Is there any paperwork I need to fill out-"

"Gerard will sort that all out with you later," Derek interrupted him, picking up a stack of papers and files from his desk before he turned to Frank, "For now, I need you to go and file these."

"Oh," Frank stuttered out. He grabbed what Derek was handing him, holding all of it carefully, "Okay... Filing."

"Everything is alphabetized so you shouldn't have any trouble. But if you do, come and get me," Derek told Frank simply, "Okay?"

"Okay." Frank nodded, confident that he was going to be able to do this without having to come and ask Derek for help. Frank walked out of the office, heading for the room opposite, pushing the door open with his shoulder so he didn't accidentally drop all of the things that he had been asked to file. Stepping into the room, he hoped that his first task as the assistant was going to be quick and simple, but seeing the filing cabinets all labeled in a way that worked for the office and labeled in a way that Derek hadn't explained, Frank knew that he was going to be here for a while.

Fifteen minutes later, Frank reappeared relatively unscathed despite the slight discoloration of printer's ink on his fingertips. He felt a sense of achievement come over him as he walked back into his new office where his bag still sat on his desk untouched in haste. Derek watched him for a second and pushed his glasses up on his nose. Frank hadn't seen the glasses on Derek before. Did he only wear them at the computer? Derek pursed his lips, "Took you fifteen minutes to file."

"Sorry," Frank mumbled; he could sense the tone in Derek's voice and from the way he spoke, it was obvious that he had been slow. But seeing as he hadn't been shown how the filing was done here and hadn't had someone supervising him, Frank still felt proud of himself because he had done it single-handedly, "Took me a few minutes to figure out your ordering system."

"You figured it out without having to ask for help?"

"Yeah," Frank nodded, feeling smug because Derek was looking at him like it should have been a difficult task to do without any assistance. Frank responded with a smile, "Your recent files go near the door on the left, older files to the back. You've got everything color-coded and in alphabetical order so it was really easy to sort through once I figured it all out."

"Impressive." Derek enthusing was draped in sarcasm. Frank picked up on the way Derek just seemed a little cheesed-off about the fact that he nailed his first task. He should have been proud, but even Frank was picking up on a vibe now. An 'off' vibe, but Frank didn't care, "So now," Derek started up, turning in his chair so he could face Frank, pointing towards his computer, "You should all be logged-in. If you wanna start running through the emails now, that would be good. Anything important or urgent will be flagged as such. I've cleared some of the inbox this morning, but if you want to-"

Derek was cut off mid explanation as a door behind them opened. Frank hadn't even noticed that there was another door. Derek barely batted an eyelid over it, but Frank turned and looked, surprised that there was another room attached to the one he was in and someone was walking out. Someone who Frank shouldn't have been surprised about seeing, but thanks to the way that it felt like his stomach had just done a full back somersault inside of him, the butterflies erupted in cheer. Frank felt nervous and excited and... Was he really giddy? He wasn't sure, but he remained composed on the outside despite his new boss doing a real number on his insides.

Gerard strode out of his office confidently; walking tall in his tailored suit. Frank couldn't take his eyes off him. The way he walked out into their office, the confidence and authority practically dripping from him. Even in the bright blue two-piece he was wearing, the charge he took had Frank realizing that there was more to this man for him than he originally thought. Definitely, something made Frank's mouth go dry at the sight of him; his mere proximity. It was hard to concentrate with such a striking form of a man in his presence. His thoughts were definitely ones that he wouldn't be sharing with Ryan when he got home lest he wanted a thorough chewing-off of his head.

"Ah, Derek, I see you have already got Frank working," Gerard mentioned, taking note of how his new employee was sat at his desk. Frank felt Gerard's eyes on him, scanning over him. Frank couldn't figure out the expression on his face; nerves blossomed in his stomach all over again, knowing full well that he looked ridiculous. Frank hoped that Gerard wasn't judging him because of the fact that he was wearing one of Ryan's suits, but he didn't know and didn't want to mention it in case Gerard really hadn't thought about it at all.

"Yeah, showed him around too," Derek explained, "Brief introductions with everyone that's here."

"Excellent," Gerard praised Derek before he turned his attention to his newest member of staff, "How are you today, Frank? Well-rested for your first day?"

"Yes, sir," Frank said as confidently as possible, feeling the need to stand up while he spoke to Gerard, "Can I just say; thank you for giving me this opportunity. I'm more than grateful and I can assure you that I won't let you down."

"Of course, Frank. You are my go-to man," Gerard smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, that made Frank internally stumble, when he squeezed, "I hope you realize the responsibilities that come with your new title."

"I do, sir." Frank gave a resolute nod, "But, uh, what exactly is my new title, sir?"

"You," Gerard straightened up, looking at Derek for a moment before he glanced down at his newest recruit, "You are my Personal Assistant in charge of scheduling, executive inclusion, and... What was it?"

"Field Representation," Derek added in as he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Gotcha."

"Good boy." Gerard flashed another brilliant smile. Frank felt his cheeks tint pink at the two words that made him almost shiver. He went to sit down, ready to continue with the work that Derek had told him to do, but Gerard continued and he felt the need to keep standing, "I was informed by Miss Williams that you arrived ten minutes early," Gerard commented, "I'm impressed, Frank."

"I would rather come early than late, sir," Frank said in response, hoping to continue to impress his new employer.

"Yes, some people would..." Gerard continued gravely and looked down to examine his nails on one hand, the other sliding into one of his pants pockets as he locked eyes with Frank, "But you must remember, it's not always about coming early, dear boy. As much as most people prefer that, I like to believe that coming when asked is key as well. Listening to instructions and following through with the orders..."

"Yes, sir." Frank nodded, feeling almost uncomfortable with the way Gerard's eyes were on him; piercing him and leaving him so much more exposed than he thought possible. It wasn't a bad feeling but definitely one he could feel himself getting used to especially if Gerard was going to look at him with those eyes.

"Speaking of orders," Gerard began, turning his attention to Derek, "Did I hear that both Bob and Joe have gone out to get coffee?"

"Yeah," Derek sighed irritably, "They went without taking my order."

"Didn't ask me either. Pity," Gerard mentioned, pushing a hand into the pocket on his blue pants. Frank felt himself watching his actions, immediately stopping himself when he realized where he was looking. A blush grew on his cheeks immediately, turning his attention to anything else so it didn't look like he was just staring at his boss' crotch. The new assistant staring at his boss was not the first impression he wanted to give to anyone in the building. Frank did find that Gerard was attractive, so attractive that it made his brain fade in and out like TV during a rainstorm. How was it possible for his stomach to feel like it was churning away in the best way possible? This was something that Frank hadn't experienced for a long time. Since high school, perhaps. It really wasn't a good idea to be getting like this over his new boss, but it wasn't exactly something he was willing to stop either.

"Would you mind running out and grabbing me a coffee then, please?" Gerard asked Frank, offering him some money, "It won't take you long and then you can get back to whatever Derek had assigned you to do."

"O-Of course," Frank nodded quickly, taking the money from Gerard before putting it in his own pocket, "What can I get for you, sir?"

"Venti latte, two sweeteners. Ask them not to put the foam on top. Derek, what would you like?"

"You don't have to get me a coffee-"

"Nonsense," Gerard cut him off instantly, "They forgot to take your order. What would you like?"

"Grande cappuccino with chocolate," Derek smiled. Frank took note of in his head, hoping not to mix up the way they wanted their drinks. It was simple enough, but Frank knew that he was a bit of a klutz when it came to ordering stuff. Unless it was him ordering something for Ryan, then he really knew what he was doing, "Thanks, Gerard."

"My pleasure," Gerard smiled at Derek before he turned to look back at Frank, the eye contact making Frank immediately look to the ground, the hazel gaze piercing right to his very soul, leaving him feeling somehow warm and cold at the same time, "Frank, did you have breakfast this morning?"

 _Oh God_ , Frank thought, not this question again. He felt like lying and saying that he had eaten. He didn't want to admit to Gerard that he hadn't eaten this morning because he had been too nervous about starting work, but he felt like he just couldn't lie either. The way he looked at Frank, it made him want to do nothing else other than telling the truth. He cleared his throat, "Uh... Not really, sir."

Gerard shook his head lightly, tutting, "Here," He said, handing some more money to Frank, "Get yourself some breakfast. You can't start the day on an empty stomach. What did I say to you the other week when you interviewed me-?"

"That breakfast is one of the most important meals of the day," Frank cut Gerard off, immediately feeling himself shrink a little because he felt bad for cutting him off. He bowed his head down, looking at his hands before he apologized, "Sorry, sir."

"Good boy," Gerard nodded at him, accepting his apology, "Now run along. Don't forget to get yourself something to eat, okay?"

"Yes, sir." Frank nodded before he exited the office, hoping that he wasn't going to get too lost on his way to the Starbucks that he had never been to before. Frank paused and looked at the money before he turned back to Gerard, "Sir?"

"Frank?"

"I have breakfast in my bag. I, uh..." Frank looked at his bag, "Or, I think I do. There's meant to be pancakes in there but I don't think I packed them."

"Rather safe than sorry, dear boy. Buy yourself something either way." Gerard smiled before whisking off into his office with a flashing turn of his blue jacket, the door closing behind him, the lingering smell of mint and a headier leather-musk in his wake had Frank's head spinning.


	15. The Sensitive Tissue of Its Organs and Its Sturdy Bones

“Frank?”

“Yes, sir?” Frank jumped and turned to see Gerard standing in the doorway of the kitchenette of their building, leaning casually against it as Frank stirred milk into his second mug of coffee. It had been hours since he had returned from his coffee run where he had handed Derek and Gerard their drinks and had shown his banana-nut breakfast muffin to his boss. He had also forgotten his pancakes at home, remembering them sitting on the counter by the door in his Power Rangers lunchbox. 

“Do you have prior plans tonight?”

“Tonight?” Frank frowned, thinking quickly, noting that it was definitely not Tuesday, “Nope. No, sir.”

“Good. I need you tonight. I need you to help me out after hours. Is that okay with you?” Gerard raised an eyebrow and Frank swallowed at the way he was being looked up and down.

“Perfect, sir.” Frank nodded as he tapped his spoon on the rim of his cup and set it aside, lifting the mug to his lips, “Nothing else to do.”

“Good.” Gerard trailed off, looking at him once more, “Good.”

He disappeared swiftly afterward, leaving Frank alone and pondering on his words; it must have been important. Frank glanced over at Derek, who was busy typing away with his earbuds in his ears. Obviously Mr. Way didn’t mind music in the workplace and Frank needed to remember that. He looked at the clock, realizing it was literally almost time to go home, and then he realized that was for everyone else but him. He slid further into his chair, taking another sip as the coffee warmed his hands. He had finished his assigned tasks ages ago, much to Derek’s dismay, and was told to at least try and look busy until Gerard gave him something else to do. Frank was the King of looking busy; he had perfected that maneuver in high school already. He watched as Derek began to pack away his things, putting his travel mug and lunch box back in his backpack along with the rest of his stuff.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Frank shrugged, “Checking out your shirt. It’s really cool.”

“Thanks.” Derek smiled awkwardly, pushing his glasses up on his nose, “My girlfriend got it for me when she went to Philly.”

“Ah, nice.” Frank smiled, “You still together?”

“Yeah, Lindsey and I’ve been together for almost two years now.” Derek stood up as he logged out of his computer.

“Lindsey?”

“Different Lindsey.” Derek remarked and Frank chuckled, setting his coffee down, “Definitely different. Both blond, actually.”

“Right, yeah.”

“What about you?” Derek asked, “Dating?”

“I-” Frank was about to answer when someone he didn’t recognize poked their head into his office, making them both stop. A burly man, with strawberry blonde hair and a lip-ring, eyed Frank up and down before turning his blue eyes on Derek with a small smile.

“Who’s that?” He asked in a bored tone.

“Oh.” Derek cleared his throat, “New guy. Frank, that’s Bob.”

“Sup.” Frank nodded with a friendly smile as Bob looked him over yet again.

“He dresses like a spaz.” Was Bob’s only comment before he looked at Derek again, leaving Frank overly-disgruntled and pink in the face, “You coming to Gibsons with us tonight, Dez?”

“We going straight after work?”

“As always.” Bob grinned and Frank frowned between the two of them, watching Derek pack up.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Gerard purred softly from behind Frank, making them all turn and look at him, seeing the Congressman standing yet again in the doorway to his office with a smile on his lips, “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all, sir.” Derek smiled, “We’re just making plans.”

“Oh, well carry on, I can wait.” Gerard smiled, putting his hands in his pockets as Derek looked at Bob again.

“Are the guys all coming as well?” Derek asked before he looked at Frank, “And you, new kid?”

“Me, what?” Frank stiffened up, looking at Derek when he realized he was now the main focus, his eyes going around the room, “What?”

“We’re all going out to Gibsons now after work for a drink, d’you wanna come?” Derek asked as he put his bag on his shoulder and walked to the door of his office, standing there as Frank got up.

“Well, I…” He frowned as he followed them out of the office and into the hallway. He saw the rest of the employees all standing at the door to leave, all looking at the exchange between current employee and new meat. Sudden indecision hit Frank as he looked at Derek, and Bob and then back at Gerard, who was standing stoic behind him, looking expectant.

“Yeah? You coming or what, spazmod?” Bob asked and Frank let out a small whimper, looking at Gerard and at his coworkers, his moral compass wobbling as though he were a giant magnet, spinning around between his two major choices.

“Frank…?” Gerard asked out carefully. That was what swayed him, that voice was what tilted him. 

He turned on his heel and looked at Gerard, letting out a sigh, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.” He turned to look at Derek, biting nervously on his lip, “N-Next time, I promised I would work overtime tonight.”

“Fine,” Derek shrugged as everyone began filing out, “Your loss, new kid. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…” Frank muttered, frowning as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Frank,” Gerard called from his office, making the latter yelp and rush in, realizing he had been standing on the spot for ages.

“Yes.” He breathed out, “I’m here.” He opened the door and slid into the room, trying not to stare while he walked. The inside of the office stood out from the rest of the place that Frank had seen so far. Wowed by it, Frank's eyes darted around, taking in everything he could as quickly as possible while still trying to walk in a straight line towards the desk.

He didn’t want to look like he was gawking or come across as completely professional because Frank was amazed by the office. The floors were white; completely different to the rest of the floors in the office, making it stand out even more. The other thing that stood out was a bright orange rug that he would never have expected. Maybe he has a thing for orange, Frank thought, knowing not to question even though he did wonder. A long expanse of window stretched out to his left, showing what looked like a patio area, dotted with one or two potted plants. The walls were white too. It felt far too clean for Franks’s liking. Ryan probably would have been in heaven if he could have seen just how pristine the walls were. The wall on the far side from Frank wasn’t white though. Instead, a large mahogany bookcase filled the wall. The wood a deep red-brown russet color, completely in contrast to the rest of the room which felt so clinical and appeared so bright. The shelves were filled with an array of things, ranging from books which seemed like the obvious thing to store, going on to ornaments and trinkets, going onto the large painting that was right in the middle of the whole unit. Frank glanced at it. Clearly it was abstract, just like the other paintings that he had seen dotted around the office. This one was different though. A dark canvas with what looked like a smear of ablaze in the middle of it. Oranges from dark to light, lining a bright yellow center, with white in the middle of it all. The center which Frank focussed on for a split second before he looked at the one thing he was heading towards.

The oversized desk that matched the bookshelf in color. Such furniture Frank didn’t even want to consider the price tag that had been attached to the desk once. All he took notice of was the fact that it was modern like the bookshelf too. There were a few things dotted on it, lamp, laptop, paperwork, the empty coffee cup which had probably been the first drink of the day. But that wasn’t Frank’s main focus now. No, he peeled his eyes away from looking around the office in a second, finally bringing his attention onto the one thing in the room that made him feel like his stomach was really doing some sort of acrobatic display inside of him.

“Good boy.” Gerard nodded, “Now, come here.” Frank walked over as Gerard got up and walked to his bookshelf, scanning over the vast collection as Frank sat in one of the chairs at Gerard’s large desk, facing Gerard’s large leathery chair. Gerard returned, setting a book down in front of Frank. It wasn’t a large book, it wasn’t a fancy book, it looked like a simple bound notebook with the word 'employees' written on the front.

"What's first, sir?"

“You ate this morning, correct?”

“I did, sir. That muffin I bought when I went on the coffee run.” Frank smiled, “And then I went to buy myself a salad at lunch.”

“Good boy. One must never neglect their physical health or they end up with complications and conditions that are irreparable. Can’t have you being ill now, can we?”

“No, sir.”

“I want to see you eating at least one meal every day at work, do you understand? I’ll have Derek keep an eye on you if you don’t think you can follow a simple instruction as such, Frank.”

“I’ll bring lunch every day, sir.” Frank smiled and watched as Gerard shed the jacket of his sapphire-hued suit, laying it over the back of his chair. He began absent-mindedly rolling the sleeves of his shirt up neatly to sit beneath his elbows before he ran a hand through his tousled vermillion hair.

“May I ask you a question, Frank?”

“Of course, sir.”

Gerard sat down in his chair with one leg over the other, resting his elbow on one of the armrests to bit on his finger idly, watching Frank with intrigue for a second before asking, “How was your first day? Any ups and downs? Questions?”

“It was…” Frank rolled the ball of his tongue-bar over the back of his teeth, “Interesting to see how you run your ship. Staff seems pretty cool, too.”

“You seemed nervous this morning, boy. How come?”

“Honestly, sir.” Frank went pink as he looked down at his hands, “The most nervewracking thing about today was getting you your coffee. I didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

“Well, you did very well. You outshone Brendon in that simple task alone. He could never get it right. A latte could baffle him, the poor fellow. Lovely man, of course. Very friendly. But…”

“Not what you were looking for?”

Gerard’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at his new assistant, “Exactly, Frank.” He got up and walked around the enormous desk to stand beside Frank, leaning in with a hand splayed over the desk, the other flipping the notebook open, “One of the most important things there is to know about your job, or any job for that matter, besides the work you do. Those with whom you work.” 

“For sure, yeah. Teamwork and all those good things.”

“Every person within my employment, boy, they all play a role in this enigmatic machine of which I am the scrupulous luminary. I wouldn’t hire anyone that I didn’t deem necessary for my continued candidacy, you understand. And everyone has their spot within the electoral machine, from myself right at the top all the way through the sensitive tissue of its organs and its sturdy bones. From the heart to the metatarsals.”

Frank swallowed, his stomach tying itself into a knot for some unknown reason when Gerard began to talk with such rapture about his career and the people responsible. He nodded in agreement and Gerard leaned in, his hand on the book, “Tell me, Frank. What is your job title?”

“Oh!” Frank raised his eyebrows, “I’m your assistant and your scheduler and something about a representative.” He smiled.

“Half-correct.” Gerard smiled, perching himself on the desk, “I didn’t ask what you did, I asked what your title is.”

“I-I don’t remember.” Frank replied honestly and looked down, “Sorry, sir.”

“That’s quite alright. I don’t expect you to know the first time. Pop.” Gerard stated. Frank frowned and looked up.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“P.O.P.” Gerard repeated, “Easy for everyone to remember. Patience, obedience, and practice. It's a motto I've used for many years in everything I do, not just work. Take care to remember it. Patience in learning new skills, obedience in keeping your skills maintained, and practice growing yourself. It’s how you grow from a defenseless owlet in the nest to a mighty predator who can hunt for itself.”

“An… Owlet, sir?”

“A baby owl, Frank.”

“Oddly specific. Why not just a bird, sir?”

“I happen to like owls. Is there a problem, boy?”

“No, sir. Owls are pretty cool.” Frank smiled, “I like that whole thing, though. Pop.” 

“Your title, my dear boy…” Gerard smiled, “You are my Personal Assistant in charge of scheduling, executive inclusion, and field representation.”

“That’s the one.” Frank chuckled, “Now, can I ask what that means?”

“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.” Gerard nodded, “You’re my Personal Assistant so you do as I ask of you. You’re my scheduler so you make all of my appointments, tell me about them and manage them in an orderly fashion. And as a Field Representative, which is very similar to a Caseworker. You will act as a liaison between Congresspersons, Constituents and government agencies, or other organizations.”

“Right…” Frank whispered.

“Now, let’s go through who works for me, hmm?” Gerard smiled as he turned the page, showing a photo of a man with light caramel-colored skin and a bushy mane of hair in almost the same shade, “This is Ray Toro, my Chief of Staff. Do you know what he does?”

“Chief of Staff is the highest-ranking and usually the highest-paid legislative staffer in the office.” Frank bit his lip as he looked at Ray’s formal photo, “They oversee all of us and are in charge of making decisions that benefit the good of everyone here. They’re meant to be the most experienced in politics and policy initiatives.”

“Very, very good.” Gerard praised, making Frank smile proudly, “Very good.” He turned the page, showing a photo of a light-skinned woman with a short brown bob of curls and ruby lips, “This is Christa Toro.”

“Ray’s wife?” Frank asked out and Gerard nodded, “His second in command.”

“Very nice. Christa is the Deputy Chief of staff and works as Ray’s assistant in everything. Like a team.”

“Right.” Frank nodded and Gerard turned the page yet again, another woman this time with thin gold-rimmed glasses and long brown hair.

“Ah, Cara Shaw.” Gerard smiled, “Wonderful girl. I’ve known her since college. She is now my Legislative Director. What does a Legislative Director do exactly, boy?”

“Um…” Frank looked at Cara as he racked his brain, realizing that Gerard had hopped off of the edge of the desk and was now standing at his side, leaning over to look at the book with him, making his concentration falter, “They… They oversee legislative staff.”

“So, not all staff like Ray?” Gerard asked quietly and Frank shook his head, “Good. And Cara works with,” Gerard turned the next page to a man with a full, dark beard over a baby-face and semi-shaved head, “Matt Olson.”

“Who’s he?”

“He’s the Senior Legislative Assistant.” Gerard smiled, “Cara’s assistant. Handles member’s priority issues that are committee, district, or mission-related. He develops legislation and strategies for legislative priorities; he’s the staff member at mark-ups and hearings.”

“Right…” Frank muttered as Gerard leaned closer, a hand on the back of his chair, making him straighten up and lean in to the book, “Who’s next?”

“You’re rather eager, Frank.”

“I…” Frank went pink, “I just wanna know.”

“Next is,” Gerard turned to a photo of a man with brown hair to his ears and another impressive beard, “Alex Grippo. He’s a Legislative Assistant.”

“But not a senior?” Frank frowned as Gerard shook his head, “So, he works under Matt? And I think… He handles issues outside the member’s priority areas, briefs the member on votes and hearings, staff member at hearings; meets with constituents, answers constituent mail, prepares speeches and record statements.”

“And Cara.” Gerard added and turned the page to see a man with a long, muscular face with an even thicker beard and squinted eyes, reminding Frank almost of Frankenstein’s monster in a way, but less terrifying, “Rob Hughes. He’s the Legislative correspondent. What do they do, boy?”

“Oh!” Frank frowned and leaned in, “My friend is an L.C. They’re responsible for drafting letters in response to constituents’ comments and questions. And legislative issues.”

“Good boy.” Gerard smiled, giving Frank’s shoulder a squeeze, making Frank’s leg automatically want to jerk under the desk, "Next we have… Ah, Patrick Stump.”

Frank looked at the ginger-haired man who couldn’t be much older than him with his slim face and bright eyes, his hair short and fringe slick, and a thick pair of black glasses perched on his nose, “What’s he do?”

“He’s the Press Secretary and Communications Director.” Gerard pulled the book closer, “Know what they do?”

“He’s responsible for the relationship between you and the media, the liaison for the local and national press. He issues press releases, right?”

“Correct.” Gerard smiled, “Very good. You know your stuff.”

“I try.” Frank gushed, smiling coyly.

“Now…” Gerard turned to the next page with a picture of himself, “Who is this?”

“That’s… That’s you, sir.”

“You’re very astute. That is indeed me, boy. Well done.” Gerard replied with the tiniest hint of sarcasm in his voice that had Frank’s smile widening, “And what am I?” Gerard looked at Frank, their faces inches apart, making Frank swallow and shudder, “Hmm?”

“You’re the Congressman.”

“And another name for myself would be?” Gerard pried and Frank breathed out shakily.

“M-My boss…?”

“Very good…” Gerard smiled, “But-” He looked away, letting Frank relax slightly, “I’m also the District Representative. And in this case, I also happen to be the District Director.”

“Oh. Yeah- Fuck- Of course.” Frank closed his eyes, cursing himself at his ignorance, “I knew that.”

“I’m sure you did… You’re getting distracted, I see.”

“I…” Frank frowned, growing pink, “I guess… Sorry, sir.”

“That’s quite alright.” Gerard smiled, “Do you know what I do?”

“You... “ Frank frowned again, “A District Rep is elected to a two-year term serving the people of a specific congressional district, right? Among other duties, I guess the most important are representatives introduce bills and resolutions, offer amendments, and serve on committees.”

“Perfect.” Gerard smiled, “Good boy. And as the District Director, I manage overall district operation and workflow. I’m responsible for recruiting, hiring, training, and managing district staff; representing member at events; monitoring district issues and politics, conducting staff outreach.”

Frank smiled, feeling slightly relieved. The last thing he wanted was to fuck up Gerard’s damn job description and look like a total fucking nitwit. He shifted in his seat to tuck one foot behind the other, “Thank you, sir.”

“Next in the book…” Gerard turned the page to show a blank frame where a photo should be and Frank’s very own title beneath it, “Ah, look at that. Right beneath me.”

“Well…” Frank giggled and leaned forward, “I am below you, aren’t I?”

“As you should be,” Gerard smirked and Frank chuckled. He looked at the blank page.

“When do I go in the book, sir?”

“When you’ve worked here for more than a month. When I’m assured of your capabilities.” Gerard explained as Frank examined the book, turning the page himself, looking down at the picture of Derek, clean-shaven this time, an unnerving sight for Frank, “Oh, Derek.”

“Derek.” Frank muttered, “What’s he do?”

“He,” Gerard leaned in again beside Frank, “Mister Zanetti is the Office Manager and he is also the Staff Assistant. The title is rather self-descriptive, isn’t it?”

“A tad.” Frank chuckled, “He’s in charge of the office, isn’t he? Assists Chief of Staff in managing office functions, complying with CAA and ethics policies, and financial disclosure reporting… Maintains office equipment, furniture, supplies, and filing systems and manages office accounts.”

“Such a smart boy. But as Staff Assistant he does a lot more than that. Once you’ve mastered being my assistant, we’ll see about you taking on that role instead. They handle word processing, filing, faxing. Also responding to general constituent requests, processes tour and flag requests, staffs the front reception area, greets visitors, and answers telephones.” Gerard chuckled dryly when Frank swallowed hard, a sudden nervous sinking in his stomach, “I wouldn’t offer you the opportunity if I didn’t think you could handle it, Frank. I would never have you do anything for me if I thought for an iota that you couldn’t do it. Who’s next?”

“James Dewees.” Frank stated matter-of-factly, looking at the much older chubby man with his all-over-the-place chestnut hair and his smile, “He’s the… Computer System and Mail Manager. So, he’s the tech nerd who fixes all of the electronic stuff and he also happens to be Postman Pat?”

Gerard chuckled at that, smiling brightly at Frank, “Your humor is certainly unique, and contagious as it were, and nicely timed. Yes, he is. And I’ll be sure to tell him of his new nickname tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, God.” Frank paled, looking up at Gerard suddenly, ‘Wait. No- I-”

“He’ll take it in good spirit, we all have a good sense of humor toward our colleagues in this office, boy. Like a big family. What he formally does, however, is that he manages all computer hardware and software systems used by office, maintains office websites, Internet, and Intranet systems. He acts as a liaison with vendors and HIR, answers staff’s computer questions, and manages constituent mail processing.” Gerard winked and turned the page, smiling widely, “My Lindsey.”

Frank looked down at the page with a frown at the woman with the doe-brown eyes, bright red lips, and her blonde hair back in what Frank assumed to be a hair clip with lengthy strands hanging in a frame around her face, “Ballato?” Frank looked up, “She didn’t take your name?”

“She never wanted my last name even when we dated in college. She may be my wife but she’s very set in her ways and found it unnecessary to take my name. She wants to be known as her own person and not just as a Congressman’s wife.” Gerard smiled, “She’s such an empowered woman.”

“I can tell. And if I may, sir, she’s beautiful” Frank pursed his lips, impressed already. He heard Gerard hum in agreement at his latter statement. Frank looked up as Gerard with a small frown, “I didn’t see her today.”

“She was out with a friend of hers for lunch today and had appointments out of office. She’ll be in tomorrow. She’s been very excited to meet my new lackey.” Gerard mused, pursing his lips as Frank scowled ruefully up at his boss, “Relax, Frank.”

“So, what does Lindsey do here?”

“Besides keep me happy?” Gerard asked with an almost hint of playfulness if it were at all possible, “She’s the Deputy District Director and the Projects and Grants Coordinator.”

“Oh.” Frank scowled, “I-I don’t know what that is.”

“She is in charge of and including, she assists in obtaining federal and private funding for constituents, addresses the needs of local governments, private and civic organizations, and other constituents.”

“Wow…” Frank muttered softly, “That’s a lot of shit.”

“It is a lot of shit. But, she handles it and moreover, handles all of the staff here, myself included sometimes.” Gerard turned the page with a small smile, “Ah, the office clown.”

“Pete Wentz?” Frank frowned at the platinum-blonde haired man with his pouty lips and bright eyes, “He’s the… Caseworker.”

“You’ll be working with him when you do field rep work. In politics, a Caseworker is a type of legislative staffer responsible for dealing with constituent services- services provided to the constituents of a legislator. Caseworkers often deal with individual or family concerns, such as obtaining social services.” Gerard smiled, “Got all of that?”

“Most of it, yeah.” Frank answered truthfully as Gerard leaned in again and turned the page to another square-faced man with short brown hair and a ginger beard, “Andy Hurley?”

“He works closely with Pete.” Gerard stated simply, “He’s a Constituent Services Rep. Similar to a caseworker. What’s the difference, boy?”

“Not much except the title but a lot of politicians split up the jobs of a Caseworker between two because the workload can get hefty.”

“Not many people know that.” Gerard seemed surprised, “Why different titles, then?”

“That…” Frank frowned, “That I don’t know.”

“Because they kept wanting to know who was in charge of who so, I eventually gave them different titles to stop the arguments every five minutes when one told the other what to do.” Gerard rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair, “But they’re fantastic at their jobs so I let them have their official titles as is.”

Frank couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of the two men bickering in Gerard’s office while he tried to sort them out. And Frank had no doubt in his mind that Gerard was definitely a man who would sort problems out very quickly.

“Our Congressional Aide. A Mister Joshua Dun.” Gerard gestured to the book and Frank looked down to see a scruffy-chinned man near his own age, with a bubblegum-pink colored fluff-mohawk on his head, and dark eyes, “I think you two would get on well. Very quiet young man but he’s a wonderful person to be around. He’s got oracular chemistry about him that one tends to gravitate towards, much like you do. You’re more…”

“More…?”

“Rougher around your edges,” Gerard smirked blithely, “You have a lot to learn whereas Joshua has quite a few years under his belt working for me. You’ll learn, don’t you worry. Put your frown away, dear boy.”

“Ah…” Frank uncreased his forehead and looked at the book, spying Josh and his title yet again.

“What does he do here, boy?” 

“I have no idea, sir.”

“Mister Dun is more of a here-and-there man in the office. He works with the other employees doing whatever else needs doing. He’s only a temp but he’s been a temp for a couple of years now. A congressional aide supports a congressperson in whatever duties are deemed necessary. They perform all duties ranging from research on specific legislative bills to simple administrative tasks such as handling emails for their assigned congressperson.” 

Frank nodded, “Oh, I see. He’s like the office’s ‘every-job’ guy.” 

“Exactly.” Gerard smiled, “He did your job for a while but he told me I was very high maintenance and decided to work with the others.” Gerard smirked then, “Lovely boy.”

“I…” Frank frowned, “Weren’t you mad?”

“Why should I be? He’s right.” Gerard waved a hand, “I’ve had over nine assistants in the past two years. None of them can do what I ask within capacity. Lindsey has often compared me to a dictator or a military leader. I can be very unyielding when I ask something of you.”

“That’s comforting.” Frank muttered, immediately changing the subject as he turned the page, “Sarah Orz-... What?”

“Orzechowski.” Gerard finished, “A small mouthful, I know. She’s going to be working with you as a Field Rep.”

“Ah…” Frank remembered her from that morning, remembered her giving him the dirtiest of glances, “Awesome.”

“A Field Rep updates the Congressman and District Director on district and local issues and just in general keeps a good name for the Congressman in public.” Gerard waved a hand, “And lastly are my Legislative Counsel. I believe you’ve met Mister Bryar?”

“Uh-huh…” Frank eyed the photo of Bob beside the photo of a man called Joe who had a mop of dark curls on his head and wide bright eyes, “Well aware of Bob.”

“What do they do?”

“They’re your Council, a council within a legislature which supervises nonpartisan legislative support staff.” Frank shrugged, “In a nutshell.”

“Very nice.” Gerard straightened up, “Good. Now you know everyone here.”

“Yeah…” Frank muttered as he stretched his legs out under the desk, “That’s good. Thank you, sir.”

“Frank?”

“Yes, sir?” Frank asked as he watched Gerard walk around the desk and sit across in his own leather chair, leaning forward, fingers steepled in front of his face as Frank ran the ball of his tongue bar over his teeth out of habit.

“I have another question.”

“Of course, sir.” Frank smiled.

“Your… Outfit.” Gerard tilted his head, “Where did you get it?”

“Oh…” Frank went bright red, “Well, I live with my boyfriend and we sometimes swap clothes.” Frank lied quickly, trying to assuage to the fact that he had, in fact, had zero fucking clothing for normal situations.

“Oh, so it’s Ryan’s suit?” Gerard asked and Frank sighed, nodding, “Well, if that’s the case, he seems like a very interesting man.”

“Oh, please.” Frank scoffed, grinning as he sat back in his chair, rolling his eyes.

“What? Did I say something?” Gerard asked, looking concerned as his brows knitted together.

“The most interesting thing about Ryan is his clothes and that he bleaches his asshole. That’s it.” Frank snorted, and then frowned, and then looked down and back up all within seconds, “Did I just… Was that…?”

“Out loud?” Gerard asked slowly, his lips in a grim line, “I’m afraid so. But that is pretty interesting.”

“Oh, God, he’s gonna kill me.” Frank groaned, his ears now tinting beet red as he hid his face in his hands, elbows rested on his knees, “Why the hell did I say that?”

“Trying to shift the topic off of your fancy suit, I think,”

“I didn’t want to say that out loud, nor would I sabotage my boyfriend’s asshole in the process.” He stated simply, watching Gerard chuckle.

“How noble of you, Frank.” Gerard smirked as he switched his computer screen back on, “It sounds so painful.”

“Oh, it is…” Frank commented and then suddenly his brain came to a screeching halt, everything slamming on brakes when he realized his second anal-bleach related mistake. His eyes widened as he and Gerard stared at each other, Frank’s pierced tongue pressed flat against the roof of his mouth. Frank wanted to curl up and die right about now, feeling almost nauseated at himself and his lack of control.

“Frank, be a dear and spell check those for me, would you?” Gerard casually asked as he slid a pile of notes towards his new and bright red assistant.

“Yes, sir.” Frank sighed out in relief at Gerard’s smooth subject change, grabbing the notes and a pen.

“I’d love to meet this boyfriend of yours.” Gerard remarked simply, “Get to know a bit more about him.”

“Oh, I think you know way more about him than the average human should.” Frank squinted jokingly at Gerard as he grinned.

“Perhaps you’re right. I think Ryan should remain a mystery rather; never peek behind the curtain and what have you.” Gerard waved a hand and Frank let out a small laugh.

“Especially if that curtain’s hiding painful bleach and paisley.”

“Oh definitely, boy. Definitely.”

Frank took that as his cue to leave. He nodded, turning to leave, but something in his head drew his attention back to the orange rug that was splayed out on the floor in front of him. It was the kind of thing that he knew to keep to himself, but for some reason, God knows what, his brain to mouth filter had a malfunction.

“I see you like orange,” Frank commented. Gerard didn’t say a word; he sat completely still in his chair, looking at Frank who had turned back around to him, “Y’know,” Frank continued when Gerard didn’t say anything, “Because you have a lot of orange in your office. The painting… Your rug… Your hair.”

“Are you saying my hair looks like carpet?” Gerard shot his question back instantaneously and Frank froze, his eyes widening with realization. It had probably been the stupidest thing he could have ever said. Why didn’t he just keep his mouth shut, walking out of the office to go back to his desk where he would work on the pages he had been given?.

“No,” Frank blurted out fast, shaking his head while his cheeks flushed, “God, no. I was… It was just a comment. I-I meant nothing by it. Oh, fuck-”

Gerard narrowed his eyes at Frank then, placing his papers neatly on the desk, putting his full attention onto Frank with his fingers steepled yet again. That made Frank feel like he was shrinking for a second. Those eyes on him, making him look down because of the sheer intensity. God, why had he been so stupid? Why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut? 

“Don’t you have work with which to busy yourself, boy?”  
  
“I do,” Frank nodded, hoping that this was a sign that he hadn’t just fucked up, “I should probably just-” He said, pointing towards the office door.

“I think you should,” Gerard agreed casually, making it hard for Frank to tell if he was upset with him or not. He was so complicated to figure out and Frank was going to take this opportunity and move on very quickly from the stupid thing he had said.

“I suppose the good thing is; if you spill your coffee on that suit, we wouldn’t notice because it is so… Busy.” Gerard commented as casually as Frank had, a retort that fell so honey-dripped from Gerard’s tongue. That was payback and Frank knew that he had it coming after his unfiltered error. He sighed, almost being able to picture the smirk that was on Gerard’s face.


	16. Aunt Mabel's Sofa Wrapped Around His Legs

Yesterday's outfit, in Frank’s memory, seemed like the better choice to wear at work. Frank would rather have worn the same outfit again if he could because today's outfit was so abhorrent that Frank hadn’t even been able to walk into his office yet. Thank God, Gerard wasn’t in yet. Frank knew that he hadn’t got dressed in the dark, but he hadn’t dressed for the second day in a row and Ryan had completely outdone himself with his choices. This was why Frank was in the bathroom, refusing to come out until he had no choice.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He almost refused to look at his own reflection in the large mirror that was sitting above the sinks, but he knew he had to. He knew he was going to have to come to terms with the fact that this was how he was dressed and he was just going to have to deal with it in some way. He just hoped that no one else would say anything to him. He barely knew any of the staff; some of the names he had already forgotten because there had been so many to remember. He didn’t want them taking the piss out of him because his boyfriend had dressed him like an old woman’s living room. Frank had already removed the burnt orange-red blazer; the intense color that looked amazing on Ryan, but on Frank, it looked like he had just dressed up like some sort of tomato. Frank tossed it over one of the sinks, trying not to look at it. He stood there in the hopes that he could try and downplay his outfit or make it less awful somehow. 

Frank finally looked down with a grimace, he couldn’t help but wonder if Ryan had done this on purpose. Not only had he been dressed in a heinously bright red blazer, but he had to wear an orange waistcoat over a beige shirt. It was the fact that his pants and his tie matched, it was the fact that not only did his tie and pants much but they were both in the same paisley brown. The same umber shade with red and green pattern all over his legs and the same fucking pattern. Who matched their pants and their tie like that? Ryan was the only one, that Frank had ever seen, wear brown paisley pants. Ryan looked amazing in these pants and they were tailored to his slender thighs and flared out only slightly over his shoes. Ryan could pull off the corporate 70’s hippie aesthetic so well. Frank could not. He looked absolutely ridiculous. He wasn’t even wearing his own shoes because Ryan had told him that black shoes would ruin the entire ensemble so he was currently wearing a pair of brown slide-ons that were way too big.

Frank took a step back from the sink he had been resting his hands on, staring at himself and his clothing, wondering if it was possible for clothes to just combust on command. It wasn’t about to happen and that seemed more nightmarish than the idea of clothing exploding in the first place. Frank unbuttoned the waistcoat, shrugging out of it quickly, dumping it on top of the blazer he had already removed. Did that look better? Frank didn’t know as he examined himself in the mirror again. Could he get away with the beige shirt and tie combination? Could he get away with the fact that the shirt really didn’t go with the brown paisley pants and the brown shoes and the bright orange belt in the middle?

Even though the patterns were different, Frank felt as though someone had made him an outfit out of Mama June’s wedding dress, orange accessories to boot. At least he wasn’t wearing camouflage. Although right now, Frank wished that he were, maybe no one would see him then, not like this. Thank God that Frank had chosen to wear brown shoes today despite Ryan’s best efforts; Ryan had offered him a pair this morning, saying that they went so well with the trousers. Frank however thought otherwise, especially seeing as Ryan had been handing him a pair of dark green shoes. 

And the one thing that bothered Frank right now, it wasn’t even the fact that he was wearing three different shades of brown on his bottom half, it was more of the fact that he was actually going to have to go through another workday looking like this. The fact that Ryan had dressed him, even though he had only done it to help him, it made Frank feel like he wasn’t even an individual in his new workplace. Just an extension of his boyfriend. Frank felt like he was lacking who he was, his own personality castrated thanks to the dire clothes he was being made to wear. It sucked and he hated how this was making him feel but there was nothing he could do about it for the time being. Frank didn’t have a choice but to continue to let Ryan dress him. At least until he got paid. Frank was practically counting down the minutes until he got his first paycheck. When he finally had money, he was going to be buying himself some decent clothes to wear in the office. 

Frank was coming to realize as he looked at his watch, seeing that he had already been hiding in the bathroom for nearly ten minutes, that having to leave soon was inevitable. He knew they were going to say something. Most of his coworkers came dressed in black and muted tones and even those that wore bright colors kept it simple and their clothes actually matched. Not Frank, no. He knew someone was going to say something. It had already happened once. Fucking Bob, his words ringing in Frank’s head all over again; the fact that Bob had said that he dressed like a spaz. It was the first impression this guy had of him and he knew that it was going to stick. Even once he finally dressed for himself, Bob would remember and Bob would probably keep bringing it up.

Frank was about to figure out if there was any way he could make what he was wearing look any better, but he was interrupted when the bathroom door was opened. He jumped, feeling his cheeks heating up already. It was too late, someone had come into the bathroom and that someone just had to be Derek. At least he had already seen how Frank was dressed today.

“He’s here,” Was all Derek said to Frank, his lips pursed, “He wants you.”  
  
Those five words that made Frank suddenly nervous; Derek really didn’t need to explain any further. Those five words let Frank know exactly what had happened while he had been hiding away. Gerard had come into the office and he had probably seen that Frank wasn’t at his desk. Frank wanted to die, not just because he was more than likely about to get in trouble. Especially after what Gerard had said to him only yesterday about arriving on time and whatnot, but Frank also wanted to die right now because he had to go and see his boss dressed like an autumn-inspired clown from the ’70s. Frank nodded at Derek, saying ‘okay’ because he knew that there was no way he could avoid the impending judgment. Gerard was probably already waiting for him, expecting him any minute now. Derek left the bathroom moments later, letting the door shut behind him while he went back to do his work. 

Frank grabbed his waistcoat and blazer, deciding not to put them back on and hoped that he looked better without them. Gerard had already commented about his clothing several times now, there was no way in hell he was going to give Gerard another opportunity to make some remark about what he was wearing. He stepped out of the bathroom with the awful items of clothing draped over his arm and made a beeline straight for his desk, quickly shoving the jacket and waistcoat out of sight underneath it. He noticed how Derek was watching him with a near-smirk on his face and chose to ignore it. No matter how badly this was going to go, Frank knew that he had to be in that next-door office, and Derek and his annoying fucking smirk could just get fucked. Frank knocked on the door meekly, feeling his stomach somersaulting against his colon and diaphragm. A second passed until he heard Gerard from inside, telling him that he could enter. Frank swallowed, taking a deep breath before he stepped inside the office. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Frank tried to speak as confidently as possible, not wanting to show that he was nervous or worried that he had done something wrong. No, of course, he wasn’t walking into the office like a bad dog with its tail between its legs.

“I did,” Gerard replied in a monotone, setting down a manilla folder. He looked at Frank and in an instant, Frank broke eye contact with him, looking down at his feet because that stare did something to his already uneasy insides. Frank stood near the open door, wondering if he should step forward, but he hadn’t been told what to do.

“Don’t stand so far away. Come closer, please.” Gerard spoke from behind his desk, waving his hand at Frank, signaling for him to step forward. Frank really didn’t want to, but his feet moved before his brain even registered that he was making his way towards the desk. He avoided eye contact, even though he swore he could feel Gerard’s eyes on him, watching him intently.

“I called you in for a reason, Frank,” Gerard began, leaning forward in his chair, resting his arms on the desk while he examined and scrutinized his assistant, “But firstly, why did you come to work dressed so inappropriately? It was rather cold this morning,” Gerard continued, “I do hope you wore more than that today.”

Frank wanted to breathe a sigh of relief for the time being; his jacket had stayed at home. But not the blazer jacket. No, please say Gerard wasn't going to question that. He wanted to keep that hidden under his desk until he could go home. Frank shifted nervously under the ardent gaze of his boss, “I wore a blazer, sir,” 

“Just a blazer?” Gerard raised an eyebrow, “Nothing else?”

 _Please dear god no_ , Frank thought before he continued, his voice cracking, “Well, I-I wore a waistcoat.” He could feel his face getting hotter when Gerard nodded. He held his fingers against his chin for a second, eyes narrowing at Frank, still surveying him. 

Gerard then said five words that made Frank want to punch himself in the face just to escape, “Can I see them, please?”  
  
In Frank’s head, he could picture himself saying _‘no the fuck you can’t’_ to Gerard. As though he was imagining some alternate universe where he had the balls to talk to his new employer like that. But, Frank knew that he would never speak to Gerard like that. It was like Mr. Way had some unknown power over him, not just because he was his boss. Something else that Frank couldn’t put a finger on. It was that innate ‘something’ that made him nod despite dying inside. Frank stepped out of the office briefly to quickly grab the two items of clothing that he had stuffed under his desk. He couldn’t help balling them up because even as they were, they looked atrocious. He wished that he could just keep balling them up until they didn’t exist anymore, but that wasn’t possible. What really wasn’t helping the situation when he leaned from underneath his desk, Derek was looking right at him with a smirk on his face. He looked like he knew something, or at least assumed that Frank was going to be more than embarrassed because he had heard what Gerard had asked him to do. Frank knew he was screwed as he walked back into the office, ignoring the low chuckling laugh that left Derek. _Fucking shit_ , Frank thought as he held the items of clothing close to his chest, arms folded over them so Gerard couldn’t see properly. This was proof; Frank had hold of them and Gerard didn’t need to know any more. 

Gerard watched Frank for a second, his brow furrowed, “Is that them? Can I see?” Frank nodded, not even breathing a word, Gerard asked and Frank withheld the urge to whimper, feeling it bubble into the back of his throat. He held them out gingerly, stepping towards Gerard, assuming that he just wanted to look them over, “I meant… Can I see them on you?”

In his head, Frank said ‘no’ again. In reality, he really wanted to protest. Frank couldn’t think of anything worse. Derek must have said something to Gerard when he got in. Frank knew it because there was no way in hell Gerard would have known what he was wearing today. Derek had to have told him and right now, Frank wanted to strangle him; the one that had snitched on him to his boss about his awful outfit. The very outfit that still had Derek snickering in their office. Frank could hear him and fucking hated him right now. He still held the blazer and waistcoat out in front of him, not wanting to move a muscle because that meant putting them on, “But, sir-”  
  
“No ‘but’. Come on, boy. I don’t have all day.” Gerard waved a hand, his face completely apathetic despite the humor twinkling in his eyes Frank internally groaned, he felt so ashamed and almost humiliated as he held the blazer between his thighs to slide his arms through the holes of the orange waistcoat. He put the blood-orange blazer on over it all and closed his eyes when he swore he saw a look of disapproval on Gerard's face. 

The moment Frank was fully dressed, he suddenly felt on display, like he was stood naked in front of Gerard. He was so uncomfortable even though he was fully clothed that he wrapped his arms across his chest, trying to protect himself in any way. Shield the awful outfit so Gerard couldn’t see it, judge it as Frank kept his eyes closed. He really didn’t want to see how his boss was looking at him, probably wondering what in the world Ryan thought he was doing when he gave Frank these clothes to wear this morning.

“Don’t hide, boy,” Gerard spoke, breaking the silence. The sudden voice had Frank’s eyes open and he looked at Mr. Way, seeing the way he was waving a hand towards him, “Hands behind your back. I want to see you.”

 _No, I’m good_ , Frank thought, but after a moment of fighting with his head and Gerard’s order, he moved his arms, doing exactly as he had been instructed. He looked down at his feet, the burning embarrassment taking over while Gerard examined, his eyes looking Frank up and down. Frank heard nothing from Gerard for a moment while he tried to control his thumping heart. Hearing only that in his ears, Frank waited, dying inside because Gerard was looking him over from top to toe. Frank had noticed that when he dared to glance up for a second, wondering why Gerard was being so quiet. 

The look on Gerard’s face was unreadable; he watched Frank over steepled fingers, mouth opening for a second before he closed it again. He twisted in his chair, getting up to walk around the desk. Frank swallowed when Gerard started to make his way towards him, head down, not looking as his shoes resonated on the hardwood floor. He assumed that Gerard was coming over to him for a closer inspection, but he frowned when he didn’t stop. Gerard walked passed him, going towards the office door. Frank glanced over his shoulder with a frown. Gerard turned to look at Frank expectantly, but Frank didn’t know what he was expected to do.

“Well? Come on, pup. This is where you are meant to follow.” Gerard spoke, making Frank jump into action, feet finally ungluing from the floor so he could walk behind his boss. The pair walked through the office and Frank caught a glance at Derek watching the two of them. He was still smirking and Frank refrained from scowling at him. He continued to walk behind Gerard, following him out of their office and out of the office entirely.

“Where are we going?” Frank asked curiously, as they stepped outside. He saw a car nearby that Gerard was walking towards and Frank moved when he saw Gerard watching him again, waiting for him by the black Mercedes with tinted windows. _Fucking fancy_ , Frank thought to himself as he made his way towards Gerard, watching him open the back passenger door, signaling for him to get in. Frank climbed in, waiting patiently when Gerard shut the door and walked around the back of the car before getting in on the other side.

“Good morning, sir,” The driver finally spoke, looking over his shoulder at Gerard as the politician fastened his seat belt, he said ‘good morning’ in return before the driver spoke again, “Where to, sir?”

“Genuardi, if you please,” Gerard said quickly, “Hoboken.” 

Frank bit his lip, he knew that the drive from where the office was in Woodcliff to Hoboken was around twenty minutes; ten minutes shorter than the drive from his and Ryan’s place in Tenafly. That made him wonder where Gerard lived. It was no doubt a very expensive neighborhood like Caldwell or Rose Hill or something. Frank still remained silent next to Gerard and hoped that he would have gotten an idea from where Gerard had told the driver to take them but no. He knew Hoboken and that was it. Gerard cleared his throat and turned his attention onto him, his voice curt, “Frank, we need to address this situation. This cannot continue if you want to keep working for me.”

Two days in and already his job was on the line? Frank wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Gerard had taken it upon himself to inspect him. Was this part of the job? Daily inspections that Frank had never experienced before. 

“Where are we going?” Frank asked again. There was no way Gerard could keep him in the dark over this, especially if he had done something wrong. Gerard did not look pleased with Frank’s interruption. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before he spoke, “All in good time, boy.”

“I just don’t understand why you did what you did in the office…” Frank began, hoping that Gerard would give him some answers, “And now we’re in your car being driven somewhere. I’ve never even heard of the place.”

Gerard chuckled, “Clearly.”

“Am I in trouble or something?” Frank asked nervously as he worried at the edge of his waistcoat, fiddling with a loose thread when Gerard flicked his fingers to stop him, the touch had him jump in surprise and look up.

“You’re not in trouble,” Gerard reassured Frank, making him relax a little, “But we do need to do something about your God-awful attire.”  
  
“My-”   
  
“Your clothes, boy,” Gerard looked him up and down again as he spoke, the one thing that he kept doing the entire time, “Well, they’re not exactly…”

“Exactly what, sir?” Frank asked when Gerard stopped mid-sentence.

“I don’t have the words,” He admitted, shaking his head, “You actually had me speechless this morning, Frank. It is not often I find myself at a lack of vocation.”

“I know they’re bad.” Frank sighed, looking away from Gerard as he tried to hide his flushed cheeks.

“I think 'bad' is an understatement,” Gerard snorted, “No offense to your boyfriend or his taste in clothes… Though, I do wonder what went through his head when he dressed you this morning.”  
  
“He meant well.”   
  
“He clearly didn’t dress you ‘well’,” Gerard fired back, making Frank close his eyes. Gerard’s voice dropped an octave, “Look at me.” _No_ , Frank thought as he continued to look out of the window, watching the scenery go by as they passed the Riviera Towers.

“I said look at me, boy,” Gerard said more firmly; the tone in his voice changed instantly and it sounded disapproving and annoyed. Frank was disobeying and he, clearly, didn’t like that. Frank did look around at his boss; something about the way Gerard spoke to him, it sent a chill down his spine, making him react and move as asked. Frank looked at Gerard as the latter put on his dark sunglasses but not before giving Frank a stern glance, “You don’t ignore me, do you?”

“No, sir,” Frank mumbled, wanting to avert his eyes from Gerard’s own despite the fact that he was unable to do exactly that. He clenched his hands in his lap in an attempt to stop the nervous butterflies in his stomach. 

“You need to understand,” Gerard began again, turning to look forward, giving Frank a break from the eye contact, “In this field, you need to be appropriately dressed at all times. Whether you are out and about or in the office. People won’t take you seriously if you turn up wearing whatever you want.”

“You think that I wanted to wear this?” Frank snorted, pulling the paisley tie free from inside his waistcoat, “I know how fucking rank I look in this.”

Gerard shook his head, “Then why did you let Ryan dress you?” Frank mumbled his answer, ashamed to admit to Gerard that he had started his new job completely unprepared. He thought he owned a suit. He knew he had at one point, it was just really bad timing. Gerard sighed impatiently, “Speak up-”  
  
“I said, I didn’t have a choice,” Frank cut him off before clamping a hand over his mouth, realizing his mistake. He swallowed nervously before Gerard waved a hand at him, letting him continue, “I… I don’t own a suit…” 

“Why not?”

“I thought I did. I know I used to but, I didn’t realize and… Ryan helped me out.” Frank explained as the car passed the Hackensack Reservoir on their right

“And you let him do this to you? Really, Frank? You’d let someone do this to you? Why?”  
  
Frank sighed, “I had no choice.” 

“Well, we will need to address this situation. Won’t we, boy?” Gerard said. Frank nodded at him, looking over a, feeling jealous because at least Mr. Way was dressed smartly in his dark blue suit with a white shirt and black tie. 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Frank asked again, hoping that this time Gerard would say something. 

“You’ll see soon, boy,” Gerard told him briefly, changing the subject swiftly as he turned to look at Frank, “Now tell me, I’m curious…”

“About what, sir?”

“What made you decide that you were going to take my job offer?”  
  
That question Frank did not expect at all. Frank honestly didn’t know if he had his feet partway under the table at work yet; he didn’t know what to say. Especially when he didn’t know if Gerard would be able to deal with the fact that Frank took the job because he lost his job at the paper the very same day. Would he really be impressed with him if he found out that the only reason Frank took the job was that he had no other choice?

“You gave me the opportunity,” Frank smiled, “How could I turn it down, sir?”

“But you told me that you already had another job. You had loyalty to- Who did you work for again?”

“Ryan’s family,” Frank nodded, wincing, “I know, but they understood.”  
  
“That was very gracious of them,” Gerard noted. Frank internally snorted and Gerard added, “I hope that they can see that your talents are better suited to me and that any potential you grow will be for the better, boy.”   
  
“Yeah,” Frank nodded, “Sure.”

The car came to a stop moments later. Frank immediately went to look out of the window, trying to figure out where they were headed now that they were definitely in Hoboken. They were in a parking lot, few shops lined one side of the lot and that just made Frank more confused. Gerard chirped up, unfastening his seat belt, “Out, boy. Much to do.”

“Follow me, Frank. You’ll see,” Gerard told him before turning to the driver, “We shouldn’t be too long. An hour or so.”  
  
“Not a problem, sir,” The driver nodded, “I’ll wait here for you.”

“Come on,” Gerard instructed Frank as he opened his car door, “We don’t have all day.”  
  
Frank got out of the car, squinting in the sunlight, following behind Gerard as he walked towards a shop. A shop that Frank looked at and realized what was going on. He ambled forward, yelping when he tripped over a parking bumper, “Y-You’re taking me to a tailor?” 

“I said that we needed to address the situation and we are,” Gerard spoke simply as he opened the door of the store, waving a hand for Frank to enter. He nodded, swallowing, feeling nervous as he stepped into the shop, taken aback not only by the size of the place but the luxury that practically dripped from the walls. There was no way in hell that Frank would ever be able to afford a suit from a place like this. Gerard came to a stop beside Frank and lifted his sunglasses up onto his head with a satisfied purse to his lips, “I brought you to _my_ tailor.”

“This is _your_ tailor?” Frank repeated the statement, looking at the dark charcoal walls and the rich wooden furniture and all of the suits that were hung on walls and shirts folded with pristine precision. A beautiful chandelier hung from the ceiling above a round desk in the middle of the bespoke boutique. He gulped, “Fuck.”

“Well, I'm not going to take you to some local discount shop,” Gerard spoke, “Or wherever Ryan buys his interesting clothes from. He seems like the thrifting type, am I correct?” Frank sighed at that comment, knowing that he didn't have a comeback for that. What was he supposed to do? Gerard had Ryan down-pat. 

“Ah, good morning, Congressman,” A salesman came from out the back of the shop, smiling warmly as he approached. He was older than them both with grey hair and a tape measure around his neck, dressed impeccably in a matching set of grey slacks and a waistcoat, a crisp white shirt beneath it. They shook hands, exchanging brief conversation before the salesman got straight to the point, “What can I do for you today, Mr. Way? Need an adjustment? New suit? I have something that I know would definitely suit you-”

“Nothing for me today, Stephen. Perhaps another time,” Gerard told him quickly as he raised a hand before looking at Frank, “My new assistant needs a suit for work.”

“I can see,” Stephen said, giving Frank the same up-and-down that Gerard had done. He smiled, “So, a fitting?”

“Definitely.” Gerard nodded, “He has borrowed his attire from his partner and that leg length alone is frightfully too long. What do you have?”

“I have a couple of suits in the back that may be close to his size,” He said after giving Frank one more look-over, “But a measure first, I think.”

“Sir,” Frank butted in, realizing that this was spiraling out of control. He couldn't be fitted for suits if he was expected to buy them afterward. Frank knew that he couldn't say that he couldn't afford them; it would have been rude to the salesman and a complete waste of Gerard’s time. He leaned in toward his boss, who was standing casually with his hands in his pockets, “You don't have to do this for me.”

“Nonsense, boy. If you're going to turn up for work dressed up like someone who regularly gets dressed in the dark then I feel obliged to do this for you.”

“But, sir-”

“I won't hear another word,” Gerard cut him off when the salesman had walked away to get what he needed for the fitting, “The right thing to do is accept an offer when someone gives it to you, boy. Don't make a person look a fool, it’s impolite and pestiferous.”

“I’m-” Frank stammered when Gerard gave him a poignant glance from the side of his periphery. The same look that made his stomach churn and feel like he was about to be scolded like a bad dog. Did Gerard really have such an effect on him this quickly into his new job? Clearly, he did. Frank looked down at his borrowed shoes, “I'm sorry, sir.”

Gerard nodded at him, smiling when the salesman reappeared, “Good boy.” 

“If you would like to come this way, Frank,” Stephen pointed, directing him to an open-plan room just off of the main shop. Frank nodded and Gerard followed closely behind, walking passed a rack of suits that Frank knew had extortionate price tags on, “Gerard, can I get Bernadette to make you a coffee while you wait?”

“That would be nice,” Gerard said as he joined Frank, taking a seat in a chair that was in the corner of the room. He looked far too comfortable in the red velvet armchair as he put one leg over the other, “White, two sweeteners, thank you.”

That gave Frank a moment to realize that Gerard was actually going to be present while he had his suit fitted, “You’re going to watch?” Frank asked, watching Gerard over his shoulder in the mirror from where he had been told to stand on the small wooden stool

“I want to make sure he does a good job. Make sure he treats you right, of course.”

Frank chuckled, “If he’s your tailor then I’m sure he’ll do a good job.”

“He’s done a good job for me, yes. But he’s never fitted you before so I want to make sure.” Gerard took his sunglasses off of his head and tucked them into the in-breast pocket of his jacket before lacing his fingers together over his knee, locking eyes with Frank’s reflection.  
  
“Of what?”   
  
“What I just said,” Gerard sighed, “You must keep up with me, boy.”   
  
Frank apologized quickly before Stephen reappeared with a small cup of coffee for Gerard. He thanked him, sipping on the drink. Frank watched in the mirror as Stephen came over to him with a tape measure in hand, asking him to remove his blazer. All the while Frank could feel eyes on him, watching him. Stephen instructed him to not move while he measured his chest, making light work of the task, going on to measure across his shoulders. All the while Gerard watched intently, making Frank feel like he was on display; the twinge in his stomach again. What was Gerard doing to him?

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” Stephen asked. Frank had assumed that he was talking to him about what suit he wanted. Frank opened his mouth to answer the question, But he was cut off by the answer that came from behind him; Gerard’s response. 

“I take it anything 'black', Frank?"  
  
“Yeah,” Frank nodded, agreeing with Gerard who was still looking at him in the mirror, drinking his coffee, “Black is fine.”

“What is your usual leg length, son?” Stephen asked when he went to measure his inseam, noticing just how bunched his pants were around the shoes. Frank winced, he knew that he was asking because his pants were too long for him.

“Yeah, I- Uh, I haven’t exactly been measured like this before,” Frank admitted with a blush.

“You’ve never had a suit fitted before?” Stephen questioned curiously before going ahead and finishing off measuring Franks inseam, “No wonder Gerard brought you here…”

“I do need him dressed smartly, Stephen. He’s making my staff laugh,” Gerard spoke up from behind both of them, looking up from his phone, “How can you concentrate on a legislature when you’re sitting next to Aunt Mabels sofa?”

“Hey.” Frank frowned, throwing Gerard a dark scowl over his shoulder to which Gerard gave him the subtlest wink before reverting back to his phone. Frank felt his perma-blush spread down to his neck, his stomach tightening a knot as he looked at Stephen.

Stephen reassured Gerard with a smile, “I do have a couple of suits that would fit him. Minor adjustments. Would need to take the leg up a fraction. Haven’t seen a leg-length like this for a while.”

“I know, I’m short. Ha-ha, everyone. Very funny. Frank’s a midget.” Frank muttered once Stephen had told him that he could get down from the stool.

“There is nothing wrong with your height, boy,” Gerard piped up, noticing the pout on Frank’s face as he folded his arms haughtily over his chest. Frank glanced at Gerard from the corner of his eye and Gerard smiled at him, “If anything, it’s endearing.” Frank smiled weakly at that, still blushing but feeling a little better.

“I won’t be long,” Stephen said, taking the measurements with him, “I’ll make the adjustments and then you can try a suit on, yes?”  
  
“Yeah,” Frank nodded, “Thanks.”

Waiting in near silence while Gerard worked from his phone, Frank took it upon himself to wander around the shop. At one point he could hear Gerard talking on the phone, asking if everything was okay and that he would be back soon. Frank assumed that he was checking up on the office, calling Ray. He continued to browse, coming up to a rack of suits that looked quite nice. Gerard would probably approve of these ones, that was if Frank could afford it. Not that he could. Frank practically gasped when he saw the price tag on one of the black Issey Miyaki suits; nearly three thousand dollars. He knew that he would never be able to afford a suit like that. And Frank was worrying the entire time over how the hell he was going to afford this. There were apparently two suits that were going to fit him. If he wanted to continue working for Gerard then the situation had to be sorted out. He remembered that and now the situation was being sorted out under duress. Frank had no idea what he was going to do or say to Gerard once these suits were brought out to him, all ready to go and ready to be bought. 

Which eventually happened. Soon enough, Stephen came out with a suit for Frank. Black pinstripe suit jacket and simple black slacks. Frank felt nervous because he didn’t know what kind of price tag would be on this suit. 

“Do you want to try it on now or shall I just ring it up?” Stephen asked, catching both Gerard and Frank’s attention while he showed them both the ensemble. It was nice, Frank had to admit. He wouldn’t look like a stuck-out sore thumb at work anymore.

“Why don’t you try it on first, boy?” Gerard asked Frank, “Want to make sure it fits you nicely.”  
  
“Okay.” Frank nodded, taking the suit from Stephen before slipped off his waistcoat. He put on the blazer, doing up the buttons as he looked at himself in the mirror.

“You do look rather handsome, boy. Much better,” Gerard said from behind Frank, watching him in the mirror. Frank nodded again, feeling rather smug as he smoothed the blazer down against himself. He really did like how he looked in the jacket but he couldn’t help the dampener on his mood because there was no way in hell he was going to be able to afford the suit.

“Would you like to try on the pants?” Stephen asked. Gerard stood up, walking towards the two of them, shaking his head.

“That won’t be necessary, we are on a tight schedule. If they don’t fit properly then we can always bring them back in for further adjustments,” Gerard said, coming up to Frank, smoothing down the lapels. The simple action made Frank’s heart beat harder in his chest. The closeness and the contact were surprising. They looked each other in the eye for a second before Gerard looked at Stephen, “Did you say there was another suit that might fit?”

“There is,” Stephen smiled, “Won’t need any adjustments. Like it was made for you, Frank.”

“We’ll take both, then.” Gerard decided with a smile.

“Will you need anything else with it?”  
  
“Some shirts, white and black, two of each. Some ties, you can decide, Stephen. I trust your judgment on the boy and his taste… A belt, too, it seems. And plain socks, if memory serves.” Gerard began to list, the last item made Frank want to die inside, remembering exactly why Gerard had mentioned them. Fank pushed the pink socks from his mind when Gerard cleared his throat, “Do you have any that he can wear out now?”   
  
“Of course. How about some shoes to match?”

Frank felt like he had lost control of the situation and his chest began to constrict as though in a vacuum. Gerard was talking as though he was shopping for himself, and when Frank wanted to cut in, saying that this really wasn’t necessary. He couldn’t when Stephen was already asking him yet another question.

“N-Nine.” He barely managed, internally flailing with panic, He knew he had to stop this all before he had to pay for it but he couldn’t; there was no way he was going to be able to physically tell Gerard he was too broke to buy clothing.

“Frank, why don’t you go and get changed into the rest of the outfit,” Gerard waved a hand towards the changing rooms, “I’ll sort this all out.”

 _Sort this out_ , Frank repeated the words in his head with a frown on his face. He had no idea what was going until he saw Gerard had pulled his wallet out of his pocket. 

“Sir, wait, whoa,” Frank stuttered out, reaching out to put a hand on Gerard’s wrist, “You don’t have to do this.”  
  
“Do what?” Gerard frowned down at Frank’s hand and looked up at him, his brows knitting, “I’m sorting out the situation.”   
  
“By buying me suits?” Frank stammered, sliding the blazer off before he got handed a shirt and a black tie almost unceremoniously, being ushered toward a changing stall. His nails scraped against Gerard’s wrist as he yelped, being piled into a stall with a suit and accouterment, “Sir, honestly, you really don’t have to do this.”   
  
“I insist,” Gerard persisted, waving a hand when Frank peeked his head out of the curtain with a huff. Gerard examined his wrist and looked up, “I need you looking sharp at all times. I can’t have you looking scruffy.”

“But, sir-”

“Stop,” Gerard raised his voice, make Frank shrink and look down, “When someone offers to do something highly generous for you, you take it. Do I make myself crystal clear, boy?” Frank only nodded, feeling as though an actual response would have made it worse. Gerard cleared his throat, “Sorry, Frank? What was that?” 

“Yes, sir,” Frank said, briefly making eye contact with Gerard before he looked down at the tie he was gripping tightly in his hand, “Thank you, sir.”  
  
“Now, get changed,” Gerard instructed, “We’ll be heading back to the office after this. I need you ready to get back to work.”   
  
“Yes, sir,”


	17. You Can Kiss My Ass Instead, George

Back in the office, Frank felt so much better about himself. Yes, he had worried when Gerard had handed over his card in the tailors, forking out far too much money for Frank and his appearance. Who just goes out and buys their assistant two brand new suits? Apparently, Gerard did, and Frank hadn’t been able to do anything about it unless he wanted to be told he was ungrateful. He was very grateful because now he didn’t have to worry about looking like an idiot and having his new coworkers talking about him and his bad dress sense.

At least, what Frank  _ had  _ been wearing was currently contained in a suit-bag and hidden out of view as he waltzed back into the office with Gerard. He was wearing one of the suits that Gerard had bought him, the other he was carrying in another bag, slung over his shoulder. He had a smile on his face because people weren’t going to mock him behind his back over his boyfriend’s clothes. They were probably going to talk about how Gerard disappeared off with him and then an hour later he’s back, dressed smartly and appropriately for the job. They could talk all they liked. Frank thought he looked fucking awesome in his brand new suit. He followed Gerard as he walked into his office. The first person to see Frank in his new suit was Derek. He did a double-take when he saw Frank, barely recognizing him for a split-second because the red blazer had gone and the orange waistcoat had gone, and he actually looked like he was a part of the office now. Frank walked over to his desk, smiling at Derek.

“Before you get too comfortable,” Gerard piped up from the doorway of his office, making Frank swivel round in his chair to look at him, “I need you to sort out some filing for me.”   
  
“Okay, sir,” Frank nodded, getting up to follow Gerard into his office. He waited whilst Gerard went through everything on his desk, stacking up what he wanted to be put away. While he was doing that, Frank took it upon himself to admire the suit he was wearing, “Can I just say, I’m beyond grateful for this.”

“I’m glad that you appreciate it,” Gerard spoke as he sat down in his chair, going through one of his drawers in his desk. Frank waited, fiddling with the blazer of his suit. He unbuttoned it, scoping out the inside because it was surprisingly soft. The whole thing was unbelievably comfortable and a perfect fit. 

Frank stopped for a second, “Hey, you know this has pockets on the inside?”

Gerard looked up at Frank and saw the look on his face, like a small child who had just been given a new toy. He smiled, chuckling softly before he answered, “Yes, I did, Frank.”

His old suit didn’t have pockets on the inside. They had been sewn up because it was cheap. The knock-off suit really was nothing against this new one and Frank didn’t even want to consider how much it had set Gerard back. Probably not much, but to Frank, it was a hell of a lot.

“Did you know the shirt is proper cotton, sir?” Frank added, running his hand over his shirt, smiling because he swore that he had never owned an item of clothing that was this high-quality before.

“I did, indeed,” Gerard answered him, going back to looking through his drawers as he added papers to the steadily-growing stack.

“Did you know the belt is proper leather, too?”   
  
“I should sure hope so, boy,” Gerard smiled at him after he found what he was looking for, straightening it up with a few taps on his desk before he held it out for Frank, “Now, I need these filed if you please.”   
  
“Of course, sir,” Frank buttoned his blazer back up before taking the papers that Gerard was holding out for him.

“Also,” Gerard carried on, making Frank spin on his feet to face him, “Are you free later?”   
  
“Why?” Frank asked. He knew what day it was and that if Gerard was going to ask him to work overtime tonight, then he was going to have to decline. It was Tuesday and date night; Ryan wouldn’t be impressed if Frank ditched him for working late. Not that Frank minded if it meant that he got to spend more time with Gerard.

“Well, I need you to make up for the time we spent sorting out your suits,” Gerard explained, “I will be working late, too. It’s only fair.”   
  
“Sir, I-” Frank stammered out, holding onto the papers tighter, “I can’t. It’s Tuesday.”   
  
“Oh?” Gerard frowned curiously, “And why is that?”   
  
“You see,” Frank started, “Tuesday night is date night for Ryan and I. We go out and we just, well, you know what going out on dates is like. Dinner and… Stuff."   
  
“Every Tuesday?” Gerard queried, “And only Tuesday?”

Frank nodded weakly, realizing how pathetic his love-life was if his boss found it odd that they only went out as a couple once a week, every week. And he was torn; Frank could tell that Gerard was clearly bothered about the fact that he had said 'no' to him. He wanted to help Gerard because he was so new to the job, and he wanted to prove that he wasn’t disposable, but at the same time, he didn’t want to upset Ryan by ruining their routine on such short notice. He could just imagine how Ryan would be if he called him and told him that he wasn’t going to be coming home until God knows when. But Gerard? He really did want to prove his worth to Mr. Way.

“Well,” Frank started, catching Gerard’s attention, but not making the disappointed look fall from his face, “Maybe I can stay for a bit…”   
  
“A bit?” Gerard raised an eyebrow, still annoyed.

“I’ll stay later tomorrow night. I promise, sir.” Frank said, hoping to appease Gerard. He felt so guilty, and if he couldn’t work tonight, then he would definitely stay behind tomorrow night.

“Well, I guess I can agree to that.” Gerard nodded, still annoyed, but he cleared his throat, smiling at him. Frank could see that Mr. Way was bothered by his reluctance to help out when he actually needed him. Gerard had done him a big favor; the least Frank could do was return the gesture and not run off with his 'lover boy' because they had a thing that they did like clockwork every week.

“I’ll get these filed away, sir,” Frank spoke. If only Gerard could understand, then it would have been so much easier. Frank wouldn’t have felt so bad for saying 'no' to him. He finally left the office, leaving Gerard to mull over and wonder where Frank’s priorities really lay.

Hours later, Frank was knee-deep in answering emails. He had one earbud in his ear, humming to himself as he listened to Serj Tankian's solo album. He heard the soft alarm if the front door opening behind him and he paused 'Harakiri'.

“Hi, dear,” Was Gerard’s greeting that caught Frank off guard and made him turn in his chair to face the front of the building. He saw Gerard at the door, opening it for the woman Frank recognized as Lindsey. And she was way more attractive in person than Frank had realized. She was slender but not at all too skinny, her blonde hair up in a clip, her red lips perfect. And she had tattoos, something Frank had not at all expected. He looked at her three-quarter sleeve with envy, most of it on show, whatever else was hidden under a bright yellow blouse that was tucked into a very tight black leather skirt. Frank raised an eyebrow as they kissed chastely and Gerard took her bags for her.

“Frank.” Gerard gave a head nod and the latter launched from his chair, coming to a stop in front of them. He smiled sheepishly, taking the bags from Gerard’s hands, their fingers brushing had gooseflesh climb up Frank’s arms.

“Is this him?” Lindsey smiled brightly at Frank, making him automatically smile back like it was contagious.

“Hi,” Frank readjusted the bags and held out his hand, “Frank Iero.”

“It’s a pleasure, sweetie.” She shook his hand, “I hope my husband hasn’t been giving you a hard time.”

“No more than necessary,” Gerard interjected with a small wink in Frank’s direction, making him recount back to that morning.

“I’ll just…” Frank gestured with the bags before he turned and walked toward where he knew her office to be, opening the door with his elbow. He set the bags down and looked around at the black glass desk and the beige leather desk chair, the white cabinets built into the wall behind it all with a black shelf decked into the middle. Frank noted the photos of Gerard and her together and realized that there were none in his office, obviously a conscious choice. He looked at the weird long black bamboo separation in the back left corner before he shook himself out of his reverie.

He turned to see Lindsey smiling at him, “Like it?”

“I- Yes, ma’am.” Frank nodded, “Very nice.”

“Good.” She smiled, affectionately putting her finger under his chin for a moment, “Now run along, I have work to do.” She smiled before taking him by the shoulders and firmly steering him out of her office.

He turned to look as the door was closed in his face and he sucked in a breath, turning again to see Derek standing there, making him jump, “Jesus.”

“Close enough, actually.” Derek shrugged, “She seems to like you.”

“You think so?" Frank asked awkwardly as he walked towards their office, walking in without waiting for a reply from Derek. It was then he remembered what he had to do, what he’d been dreading. He pulled out his phone, unlocking it before he dialed the number.

“Hello?” 

“Ry, babe, it’s me…” Frank bit nervously on his thumbnail as Ryan answered his phone call, the phone call Frank had been dreading, the phone call Frank had hoped Ryan would be too busy to answer.

“Oh, hi.” Ryan could almost be heard smiling over the line, “This is unusual, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh, no, what now?” Ryan’s happy demeanor seemed to ebb lightly and Frank could tell he was pursing his lips like he did when he anticipated bad news.

“Well, I may be a little late tonight.”

“Frank, it- it’s Tuesday.” Ryan sounded outraged, horrified, and Frank couldn’t help but want to giggle as he imagined Ryan getting all worked up at his desk surrounded by confused coworkers, books, and numbers.

“I know, babe. But he- si- Gerard,” Frank jumped at his almost mishap, “Gerard wants me to work a bit late tonight.”

“Again?” Ryan whined, “What could you possibly have to do that’s more important than our time together, Frank?”

“Whatever he needs me to do, really.” Frank shrugged as he looked in the direction of Gerard’s office at the open door to his right, and at Derek’s empty desk, “Whatever he’s planned.”

“How late is 'late'?” 

“Not long, I promise. I’ll finish up as quickly as I can and come home to you, and we can go.” Frank smiled, “Got a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Ryan seemed dubious, “If this is another attempt at me putting my hand in your pocket when you get home-”

Frank burst out laughing, shushing himself as he put his hand over the receiver, “No, I swear, it’s an actual surprise.”

“Good.” Ryan's voice seemed happy again, “How’s work anyway?"

“It’s… Interesting.” Frank chose for the lack of a better word.

“You can tell me more later, I’m steamed under.” Ryan sighed, “I’ll see you at home?”

“‘Course, babe.” Frank smiled slightly.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Ryan added in a whisper and Frank scratched at the back of his neck.

“Yeah- uh, love you, too, Ry,” Frank replied before he hung up, sitting back in his chair before he swung out of it. He stood up, walking slowly into Gerard’s office, seeing his boss sitting and filling in some papers, “Sir?”

“Frank?” Gerard asked with a casual coolness in his voice, “How may I help you?”

“I- Well, I mean it’s not really important but I told Ryan I’ll be working a bit late tonight.” Frank toed the ground in his new shoes, admiring the shine of them as he put his hands behind his back.

“But you didn’t break the news about tomorrow night,” Gerard stated and Frank looked up to see Gerard looking at him with an unreadable expression yet again.

“I think one heart failure is enough for now.” Frank smiled, “He’s fine with it.”

“Would it change anything if he wasn’t?” Gerard asked and Frank frowned at the weird question he had been handed.

“I- Well, no. I guess he’d have to learn to live with it if I have to work overtime.” Frank shrugged.

“Good. You can’t let him manipulate you with feelings. You do what you feel is right regardless of how your significant other may feel about it, Frank. Always put you first. You grow together but you do not wilt at the expense of another's blooming.”

“I…” Frank stared at Gerard for what felt like ages, “Th-Thank you, sir.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, boy?” Gerard asked and Frank bit his lip, shaking his head as he smiled politely.

“No, sir.”

“Good boy. Get back to work. Also, I want you to pencil in an appointment for me tomorrow with my dentist sometime if he’s free. His number should be in the Rolodex I gave you yesterday.” Gerard put his finger in his mouth, “Think I cracked a filling yesterday.”

“Ouch.” Frank winced, “If- If you’re in pain, I used to use clove oil on my teeth as a kid. Or vanilla extract.” Frank shrugged and Gerard looked up, his expression softening slightly.

“And they work?” 

“Like a charm.” Frank nodded, “Just a couple drops on a cotton swab and it’ll numb it for a while. Granted they don’t taste great but…”

“Would you make my appointment?” Gerard grimaced slightly, obviously in pain, “And then perhaps run out and find something for me. It’s excruciating.”

“Of course, sir.” Frank gave a dramatic half-bow before he straightened up to see Gerard smiling a smidgen at him, “Anything else?”

“Just run along with you and your vanilla, boy.”

~

Frank looked at himself in the reflection of one of the windows outside his and Ryan’s place, eyeing himself in his new suit as the other suit and Ryan’s were slung over his shoulder in bags. He was so excited to show it off, so excited to show Ryan what he had gotten and so damn excited to wear it out on date night tonight. That’s if date night was still happening… Frank glanced down at his watch and grimaced at the time. He had told Gerard that he’d stay only for a little, and a little turned into two hours. It was already almost eight in the evening and Frank knew Ryan would not be pleased. He walked up to the door and pulled out his keys, unlocking the front door before he walked in and closed the door behind him, chucking his keys in the bowl.

“Hi, babe.” Frank sighed as he looked at Ryan, who was sitting in the kitchen at the table, arms folded and a sour expression on his face, “Ry?”

“You’re late.”

“I said I would be.” Frank set his suits down over the end of the chair at the kitchen table.

“There’s tardy and then there’s this.” Ryan pursed his lips again, “Two hours.”

“I know…” Frank sighed softly, “I didn’t mean to-”

“What are you wearing?” Ryan raised an eyebrow and Frank stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.

“I- Well…” Frank bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to say, “Well, Gerard said- Well, he- He bought it for me.”

“He bought you a cheap suit?” Ryan scoffed, “Why?”

“Oh, it’s not cheap.” Frank snorted, “It’s a…” He looked at the small label on the inside of his blazer, “Bottega Veneta..”

“Wh-” Ryan’s eyes widened and Frank knew Ryan would know who that is, “He bought you a fucking Bottega suit?”

“He, uh…” Frank bit his lip again, running a hand through his hair as he saw Ryan’s brows knit together, “Bought me two.”

“A jacket alone is like two and a half grand, Frank. What the fuck?”

“He…” Frank put a hand on the suit bag, “He didn’t think my clothing was appropriate.”

“Appropriate?!” Ryan’s voice went higher in octave as he stood up, “How the fuck is he expecting you to pay him back, Frank? Why didn’t you say 'no'?!”

“He’s a very difficult man to say 'no' to.” Frank’s voice went quieter, “And…”

“And…?” Ryan asked, his voice clipped as he seethed, eyeing the garment bags in front of him with fury.

“I don’t need to pay him back.”

“Excuse me?” Ryan scoffed, “Like hell.”

“What is your problem?!” Frank took a step closer.

“This isn’t okay!” Ryan hit his hand on the table, “You can’t just take from a man you barely know, Frank!”

“I didn’t take!” Frank yelled back, “He fucking insisted, Ryan. You weren’t there.”

“Take it back,” Ryan stated simply and Frank’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, yeah, because that’ll go down well. He didn’t want me looking like a fucking clown at work so he fixed it. He did a fucking better job than you fucking did!”

“Wh-...” Ryan’s jaw was now on the floor, “How dare you? How can you not see how weird that is? Most bosses barely buy their employees a coffee and this man knows you as his assistant for two fucking days and he buys you… Are those new shoes?”

“So, what?”

“You have shoes.” Ryan seethed, “Just like those.”

“He threw them in with the other shit.” Frank turned, folding his arms, “I look fucking great and he did it for me so I’m not doing shit. And I will keep wearing them.”

“It’s like he’s fucking grooming you, Frank.” Ryan came around the table and up to Frank, looking down at him, “How do you not see it?”

“How do you see this shit?” Frank scoffed, “You’re just fucking jealous.”

“Jealous?” Ryan’s voice raised, “What the fuck am I jealous about?!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Frank’s voice went up again, “You don’t need to have someone buy you shit because you have fucking everything, don’t you?! You have everything you want!”

“I do not!” Ryan screamed, looking angry, “How fucking dare you!”

“No, y’ know what…” Frank’s fists curled as he tried to hold back his anger, “Some of us actually have to be grateful for the shit people give us, and we have to work hard, Ryan! Not everyone has their fucking parents’ money if they don’t feel like working!”

It was a split second later and Frank’s head snapped to the side, a few seconds when his cheek was stinging from the flat contact of Ryan’s palm; Ryan had slapped him. Frank’s mouth opened as Ryan fumed, tears in his eyes, panting with pure rage. Frank’s knees went weak as the intense pain of the slap resonated in him, making his breath shudder out as he looked up at Ryan, both of them in an intense and thick moment of tension as they locked eyes.

“Frank, I-” 

Frank couldn’t help it, he couldn’t understand what had happened to him in that moment, something in his head seemed to unhinge only slightly, seemed to loosen, as he grabbed Ryan, kissing him roughly. Ryan let out a grunt in surprise as Frank kissed him, hands on Ryan’s chest as he pushed him against the counter. Ryan pushed at Frank for a second, grunting softly as he tried to figure whether or not Frank was losing his mind.

Frank stumbled back for a second, panting as the saliva between them pooled onto his bottom lip, his eyes were wide and slightly desperate as a knot tightened in his stomach. Ryan’s eyes looked him up and down for a second before his brows furrowed and he tucked a slim finger into Frank’s pants and pulled him back. Frank let out a grunt, threading his fingers into Ryan’s curls as he kissed him feverishly, moaning against Ryan’s lips. Ryan leaned back against the counter, holding himself up with one hand propped, the other had moved around Frank instinctively to grab his ass, holding him close.

Frank let out another moan as Ryan tugged at Frank’s new jacket, pushing it from his shoulders when it slid down Frank’s arms and onto the tiles behind him, Frank’s arms now free of tight constraints as he lifted Ryan up and wrapped the latter’s legs around his hips. Ryan let out a breathy whimper as he tugged Frank even closer by the tie, their bodies pressed tight with no space between. Frank let out a small grunt as Ryan tugged on his lip, teeth on his lip ring before they sloppily made their way over his jaw and to his neck, the saliva cool with Ryan’s shaking pants.    


“Whoa- Fuck.” Frank groaned, his hips rutting against Ryan as he pulled at the tie at the back of Ryan’s head, pulling the orange band from in his curls and chucking it aside as he gripped Ryan’s hair in one hand, feeling Ryan’s tongue on his neck. Ryan tightened his grip around Frank, his ankles wrapped in a vice as his hands fumbled with Frank’s tie, tugging it down as he unbuttoned Frank’s shirt somewhat.

Frank pulled Ryan from his neck, hearing Ryan grunt softly before they were kissing again, fiery and needy as tongues rubbed and hips rocked in motion. Frank pushed Ryan back, hastily unbuttoning the buttons on Ryan’s red and white plaid shirt, unbuttoning it roughly. Ryan’s hands held Frank’s face, long fingers bent as his fingertips went through Frank’s hair. Frank let out a groan, nipping at the tattoo on Ryan’s wrist, sucking softly on the skin, hearing Ryan pant quietly before he pushed Ryan back on the counter, making him go back on his elbows with a surprised huff.

Frank’s mouth started at Ryan’s chest, kissing as feverishly as he had before as he pushed the shirt and brown waistcoat out of his way, feeling Ryan’s fingers in his hair, tugging experimentally. Frank let out a loud groan at the pain in his scalp, biting down on Ryan’s soft stomach. Ryan sucked in a breath, keeping it under Frank’s mouth as Frank tugged at Ryan’s dark blue jeans with his teeth. He looked up at Ryan for a moment, seeing his boyfriend’s head back and eyes closed, his pout lips parted a fraction as he took in what Frank was doing. Frank mouthed over Ryan’s erection with his tongue before he let out a groan and brought his hands up, gripping Ryan’s wrists in his hands before he pulled, watching Ryan fall down onto the counter with a grunt, his head slant against the wall.

Frank kept Ryan’s wrists in his tight grip as he kissed up Ryan’s pale body and to his lips, kissing him with a low moan, grinding on Ryan, feeling Ryan’s denim-encased hard-on against his own. Ryan managed a soft gasp as Frank ground down against him, trying to ease the friction that was building up as quick as it was building in Frank’s system.

“Fuck- I-” Frank moaned softly, “I need-” He whimpered as he let go of Ryan’s wrists and slid his hands roughly under Ryan’s ass, pulling him closer as they pushed against each other, breath hot and sticky on the skin, that added to the entire moment.

“Frank…” Ryan muttered softly, the simple call falling from his lips made Frank’s knees buckle instantly, his heart jumping at how raw Ryan’s voice sounded. Frank grabbed Ryan even harder and pulled him off the counter, Ryan’s feet hitting the tiles as he took Ryan by the hips and turned him around, pushing him against the counter. Frank reached forward and slipped his hand into Ryan’s jeans as he unfastened them, palming his boyfriend roughly as he pushed himself up against Ryan, grinding slowly, his eyes closed instinctively.

Ryan gripped the edge of the counter with one hand, the other pressed against the tiles of the wall ahead of him, fingers bent as his nails scraped pleadingly. Frank let out a shaky moan, wrapping his hand around Ryan’s dick, palming still as the other hand unfastened his new leather belt and his black slacks. He swallowed, the contact of his hand on himself had his body tremble. Ryan let out a small groan, his hips dipping in against Frank’s hand as Frank stroked him, his other hand in sync as he wrapped it around himself properly, rolling his hips up against Ryan. But Ryan shuddered and turned, surprising Frank for a moment before Ryan’s hand was on Frank’s, jerking him off. Frank let out a groan, a loud groan at the touch and let go, rutting into Ryan’s grip, pushing him against the counter with his hips, their bodies slick and shaky.

“W’na come all over you…” Frank whispered as he nipped at Ryan’s neck, feeling Ryan’s thundering pulse under his tongue.

“Frank- I-”

“Better not say 'no', baby.” Frank let out a soft whine as Ryan sped up, nodding in agreement and Frank knew Ryan would want it in the moment, he knew Ryan was just as desperate to get off and Frank knew a part of his boyfriend wanted it just like he used to when they’d get off like this in the school bathrooms, “Lucky I don’t fuck you right here.” Frank lifted one of Ryan’s legs up, pulling Ryan’s hips even harder against him, hearing Ryan suck in a breath in surprise, his head lolling back. Ryan’s breath came out strangled then as he tried to swallow, his hips thrusting into Frank’s hand that was sandwiched between them and Ryan’s own fist. Frank could feel himself up on his toes, his legs tense and the rest of his body taut, his eyebrows furrowed as each noise that left him got louder and louder, shorter and rougher.

“Frank w-wait…” Ryan gasped as Frank sped up his hand, “Wh-What about dinner?”

“Fuck dinner.” Frank groaned softly as Ryan seemed to do the same and picked up his own pace, tightening his grip on Frank’s dick as Frank’s nails dug into Ryan’s thigh. Ryan’s head went back again, his eyes closed as his body shook, his grip slipping from the counter when he came. Frank looked at him, reveling in Ryan’s jerking hips, in his tremors as Frank’s sloppy handjob did exactly what he had wanted. Frank could feel the slick running down his fingers and on Ryan’s pants as he stroked him through his silent orgasm.

Ryan pulled his hips away from Frank as the sensitivity kicked in and Frank let go of Ryan’s dick, his fingers in his mouth as he tasted Ryan on his tongue. He let out a moan, goosebumps running rampant over his skin as his brain recollected the taste. Ryan’s slack grip tightened again as his orgasm haze wore off into tingles and Frank gasped at the sudden jerk on motion, his hips snapping forward as he practically humped Ryan, whining desperately as his own release grew with intensity and fire.

“Ry- fuck.” Frank moaned, his body tight as Ryan’s other hand went back around to pull Frank closer into him, gripping his ass in a tight hold. Frank hissed softly as Ryan nipped at his neck again, sucking low on the base beneath his tattoo, the soft sound of Ryan’s breathing had Frank’s lungs all but collapse in his ribcage. The tight pull in his lower stomach started a slow leak of fizzles before it broke, exploding like an accidental set of fireworks. He cried out, moaning in quick and short snaps as his hips involuntarily sped up, fucking into Ryan’s tight fist as he came.

Ryan bit down, making Frank scream softly, his knees giving in almost as he held the counter and rode out his intense orgasm. He stopped, whining breathlessly as Ryan pulled away slowly, wiping his hand on his still unbuttoned shirt. Frank remained still against the counter, his chest rising and falling heavily as he tried and failed to regain moisture back in his mouth and his tongue.

“I-...” Frank croaked as he straightened up, his legs going like jelly as he tucked himself back into his pants, “I don’t…”

“Me neither.” Ryan whispered as he did the same, “I wasn’t expecting that, honestly.”

“Yeah, I didn’t plan it…” Frank whispered as he leaned in for a kiss but Ryan moved back, making the latter frown, “What?”

“You- Your mouth…” Ryan stuttered and Frank realized that he had practically dizzy-scraped the come off of his hand in his orgasm-chasing haze.

“You’re still not going to relent?” Frank sighed, “Fine.” 

“Sorry, I just… It’s gross.” Ryan shrugged, “Not my fault.”

“Yeah.” Frank bent down and picked up his jacket from the tiles, dusting it off pointedly, “Whatevs.”

“You’re still mad.”

“Yep.” Frank picked his suits up, the foul mood settling over for the night.

“I’ll kiss you if you brush your teeth?” Ryan offered as Frank walked to the stairs.

“Or...” Frank began to ascend the stairs, “You can kiss my ass instead, George.”


	18. Far Too Cutesy and So Sugary Sweet

As much as Frank wanted to say that he hated filing, there was a part of him that actually liked it for various reasons. It would give him a break from whatever he was working on, give him a break from taking calls and passing on messages to Gerard, and it also gave him a break from being in the same office as Derek. The one person in the office who was watching over him regularly, making sure that he was doing everything correctly. Frank felt pretty damn good about how he had his job pretty much figured out by day three. That had to be a record. It took him at least two weeks to know what he was doing when he worked at the newspaper.

Derek had gone and dumped a load of paperwork next to Frank on his desk, making him look up from his computer. He pulled out an earbud, bringing himself back into the world while Smashing Pumpkins continued to play in his right ear. Derek had taken it upon himself to not do any filing now that Frank had started working. It wasn't like Frank was bothered about the fact that Derek was ordering him around. He probably should have been, what with the way Derek had been treating him over the past two days, but Frank just rose above it, ignoring it and getting on with his job. He would rather work than be bored out of his mind. He picked up the stack of paper that Derek had told him to file, putting his earbud back in while he walked to the filing room.

Frank pushed the door open with his shoulder, juggling the paperwork while he turned the volume up on his music. He began sorting through everything on top of one of the filing cabinets, having his own routine while he put everything where it needed to go. On top of the cabinets before he put it all away, mouthing along to the song that was playing. Working faster while he had Nine Inch Nails playing in his ears; he always believed that he worked more efficiently if he was running on music than silence.

Frank made light work of what Derek had given him to put away. He had it all separated out, he began to sort out the separate files, putting them away, speeding through everything while he was listening to music. Thank God for WiFi at work and Derek telling him the password so he didn't have to drain his data whilst trying to get his groove on. His music changed halfway through his task, having him completely submerged into the next song. _Nearly done_ , Frank thought to himself as he moved around the small room, going to the next filing cabinet where he began to sort through, rearranging in date order. Humming along, he only noticed after he caught a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye. Like he had left a cabinet open by accident. Turning on his feet to close what he thought he had left open, that was when he realized he wasn't alone, jumping at the sight of someone else being in the room with him.

"Motherfu-! Shit-" Frank cursed, immediately tugging his earbuds out of his ears as he saw Gerard watching him with a quirked eyebrow and a smile. Frank leaned back against the nearest cabinet, one hand on his chest while he tried to calm his heart that he swore had pissed into his lungs, "Sorry, sir. You scared the absolute crap out of me."

"I apologize for startling you," Gerard said from the other side of the small room, taking a step closer to Frank, "I didn't realize you had music on, boy. I was looking for you and Derek said I'd find you here and I wanted to make sure you were coping with the size of the load. It's only your third day after all and I don't want you overwhelmed already. Don't be afraid to speak up if it's too much, Frank. I don't want you to take too much too fast and you can't... Handle it."

"Oh, I've got it all handled, sir. Big loads aren't new to me. The pressure at the paper could get pretty intense." Frank apologized, "Still, I probably shouldn't have had them in."

"Nonsense. I don't have any issues with it. I know almost all of my staff do it from time to time," Gerard told him, letting Frank breathe a sigh of relief before he continued, "As long as the work gets done, then I don't mind. What are you listening to?" Gerard questioned curiously, still hearing the quiet tinny noise from where Frank had stuffed his earbuds into his blazer pocket.

"Oh," Frank stammered, unsure of whether to say what he was listening to as he put his hand into his pocket, fumbling with the headphones inside, "I don't know if you would know the band..."

"I may surprise you," Gerard chuckled softly, "I know I am older than you but I do know a thing or two about music." Frank nodded at that, knowing full well that Gerard was intent on knowing what he was listening to. Gerard reached out as he took a step closer, bringing one of the earbuds up to listen without actually putting it into his ear. Frank held his breath at the proximity, looking up at his boss in silence. Gerard smiled almost instantly, "Ah, Korn,"

The comment took Frank by surprise because he knew the usual look he got when he mentioned anything to do with his music. Usually, a frown was a response because they didn't know what he was talking about. Or, the other look; a look of disgust because his music taste differed greatly from most of the people he knew. Frank's eyes widened a little, "Yes, sir. They're a heavy rotation."

"I will admit, I haven't listened to them in a while. I always preferred 'Life Is Peachy' over their debut album. It was much more complex and fun to listen to from start to finish."

"'Peachy' is a great album but I prefer 'Follow the Leader' more. Still a core fundamental for the band itself back at the end of the '90s but before they started dabbling in the raunch of electronic." Frank smiled, finally shutting off his music so the tinny sound didn't ring out from the inside of his pocket.

"I like that you speak your opinion even if it differs from someone else's entirely, it's refreshing." Gerard smiled before be cleared his throat, "I need you to do some things for me, by the by. When you're done with this, of course."

Frank nodded, waiting for Gerard to list the things that he needed him to do for him, but the list never came. It looked like Gerard went into a daydream for a moment, watching Frank, his stare making the pit of Frank's stomach churn with its magnitude. A moment past before Gerard snapped out of it, blinking, "Apologies, Frank."

He smiled sheepishly, trying to ignore the way Gerard's gaze had made his stomach do a thing that he hadn't felt for a long time, "Thought I'd lost you, sir. Was about to call a priest or Ghostbusters or something."

"I think we can leave Peter Venkman and Egon Spengler out of it, boy. Keep their number on file just in case you see a fiery being in the fridge, however. Any marshmallows flying around should definitely warrant a call. My apologies, though. It's just a pleasure to finally see you dressed so smartly. You look a lot more comfortable, if I may say so," Gerard explained, coming even closer to Frank in the small room. He raised a hand, running it over Frank's lapel like it was something that was completely normal. The small compliment made Frank warm up inside as though he were out in the snow and he had just downed an entire mug's contents of hot cocoa. The hand on his lapel, smoothing it down, did more than that to him. The hand moved, taking hold of his tie; the action had Frank hold in a breath and automatically lock eyes with his boss. Gerard adjusted Frank's tie, lining it up before he pulled it a little tighter against his top button. Frank swallowed at the tight constriction around his throat, surprised at how it was already beginning to make him feel breathless. The weird pressure against his larynx had a strange shudder leaving him when Gerard spoke, "I hope you appreciate what I did for you, boy."

Frank nodded, "Of course I do." He breathed a sigh of relief because the tension he felt surrounding them suddenly lifted. Brushing down his collar, Frank smiled weakly at Gerard's proud praise. Frank felt a finger on his neck; the contact to his skin felt alien, cold and warm at the same time.

"This wasn't there yesterday," Gerard commented with a frown as he pulled Frank's shirt-collar down a fraction, his tone low and curious. Frank realized what he had found and his stomach dropped like an elevator with a broken cable, plummeting into his new shoes. In the heat of the moment last night, Ryan must have put it there when he was all up against his neck, pleasure overriding everything else for them both.

"Sorry," Frank immediately apologized for what his boss had stumbled on, putting a hand over the mark as Gerard took a step back to look at him with scrutiny. Frank immediately blushed, knowing that a personal line had been crossed because his boss now knew he had hooked up only a few hours before. His knee shook involuntarily, "I-I didn't know it was there."

Gerard didn't say anything straight away and it got awkward in the small room. Frank wondered if he should have just carried on with the job Derek had given him, but he couldn't move. His feet felt fused to the floor and Frank found himself looking down under the heavy weight of his boss' gaze. Was he really that annoyed about the fact that he had a hickey on his neck? His expression gave Frank that conclusion, but he didn't want to jump to that because what boss, in their right mind, would be annoyed?

"Well, it was date night last night, wasn't it?" Gerard finally broke the silence with a smile that Frank couldn't read. He had seemed annoyed first, but he was coming across like it didn't bother him. Frank nodded, remembering that he told Gerard exactly why he couldn't work late last night.

"Yeah, it was. It was meant to be anyway. I, uh- What do you need, sir?" Frank stammered out, nodding. Gerard continued to look at him as though he was annoyed, but he cracked a small smile.

"I need you to run out for me," Gerard spoke, bringing the conversation back on track. Frank swore that Gerard was suddenly 'off' with him, "I have some dry cleaning I need picking up."

"Yeah, okay." Frank nodded, making a note to look through all the information Gerard had given him because he knew, buried in it somewhere, he would know where to go without having to ask.

"And get me a coffee while you're out. You know how I like it. Now hurry along, boy," Gerard instructed, heading back to the door, "I'm sure you have plenty of work to do once you're back."

"Yes, sir," Frank said, quickly finishing off the filing before he went to do what he had been asked. He whispered the coffee order to himself over and over as he grabbed his car keys from his pocket, frowning when he got it mixed up.

Frank came back as soon as he could, loaded up with everything he had been asked to get for his boss. He had two suits slung over his shoulder as well as a few of his shirts. Frank hadn't exactly seen him in anything else, and he couldn't exactly picture his boss in anything else either. Hell, the guy probably even had a suit that he wore just at home. Frank balanced the dry cleaning and three coffees in a holder in his other hand. Gerard's latte, his own coffee, and a coffee for Derek like last time. He walked back into the office, somehow managing to get the door open with his foot, when he saw Derek down the hallway, looking through paperwork with Lindsey.

"Hey, Derek," Frank piped up, heading towards him as quickly as possible without dropping anything. How he had managed to return unscathed, he didn't know. He felt proud of himself as he ambled over, "Delivery from the tooth fairy."

"What's up, new kid?" Derek asked, looking at Frank with a wary glance.

"I got you a coffee," Frank told him, coming to a stop in front of them. He adjusted, pulling the dry cleaning higher up onto his shoulder whilst still balancing the drinks holder. Derek saw the cup with his name on it, raising an eyebrow when Frank smiled, "Cappuccino. How you had it the other day."

"Thanks," Derek said uneasily. It was a nice gesture, he just didn't know if Frank had done this for him for a reason. Derek took the drink out of the holder, taking a sip before he thanked Frank again. It wasn't like Frank had done it for a reason. He had, but he kept that hidden. The whole 'new guy' thing, Frank knew that that wasn't going to be dropped for a while, but he just wanted to fit in. Frank wanted to move on with the peace offering.

"I didn't know you were doing a coffee run," Lindsey added with the tiniest pout to her lips as she put her manicured hands on her hips. Frank couldn't help but admire the tiny details of how put-together she was despite still having that 'alternative' look to her. How she matched her ruby lips to the same shade of red on her nails, how her peroxide-blonde hair was up in a corporate bun but still hung a little lopsided with tendrils to frame her face. The daunting leather skirt that was way too tight to be acceptable, but somehow it was because it came to a stop just above her impressively taut calves. She wasn't at all Frank's type, owing to the fact that he was gay, but he couldn't deny that she was gorgeous and he could see why she turned the heads of every women-orientated person in the building. Frank had laughed at poor Cara spilled ramen all over the floor when Lindsey had bent down to retrieve the cord for her laptop. The last time Frank had seen a person that flustered was when he saw Elliot Page coming out on TV.

"Sorry, ma'am," Frank apologized immediately, wondering how he could make it up to her, "Do you want mine?"

"It's fine," Lindsey waved a hand at him, "I'm sure Bob will be on a coffee run soon enough when he realizes that you went out." Frank felt guilty. he didn't want to be seen as the guy who only got coffee for his boss when he was asked. He was only doing what he had been asked. Fair enough, he hadn't been asked to get Derek one, and Gerard hadn't said that he couldn't get one for himself, but he was there and he was just trying to be nice.

"He's in his office with a visitor," Derek told Frank with a glimmer of a smile, sipping on his drink. Frank nodded at that, knowing not to be too long as he started to make his way towards Gerard's office. If he was in the middle of a meeting then he knew to keep his head down and just give him his coffee. Frank got to the door, juggling everything again so he could get the door open, he knew to be as quick as possible. He fumbled with the door, sliding it open.

"Here's your coffee sir," Frank smiled at him, setting the holder down on the desk before he swung the carriers from his shoulder, "Your dry-cleaning, too."

"Thank you, Frank," Gerard smiled at him, leaning back in his chair, "I didn't know I was to be getting a visitor today. If I'd have known, I would have gotten you to hold back on going out."

Frank frowned at that; and when he looked around and saw the one person he was not expecting to see in his workplace it had Frank stammering. He looked around and saw Ryan sat in the chair behind him. Ryan had his arms folded across his chest, a leg over the other, looking way too comfortable in one of the chairs as he smiled at Frank.

"Wh- Ry-?" Frank stuttered out, feeling like a deer in the headlights. His own boyfriend watched him and watched Gerard from where he was sat. He swallowed and leaned in, "Wh-What are you doing here?"

"I came to bring you lunch, honey-bun." Ryan smiled at him, holding out the Power Rangers lunchbox that he had brought food in for his boyfriend. Frank instantly called 'bullshit'; there was no way Ryan had come in _just_ to bring him lunch. Ryan had never brought Frank lunch in the entirety of their relationship bar the three times Frank had been off on a special occasion like a birthday or something. Frank knew that Ryan had an agenda for being here. He could tell from the way Ryan was looking at him and trying to read him from across the office.

"Isn't that nice? I do like it when Lindsey brings me lunch." Gerard commented with a breathy sigh, making Frank internally fume and want to punch himself in the face. He suddenly realized what was going on and why Ryan was here. The sudden epiphany happened when he saw Ryan wearing the ring that Frank had given him almost four years ago. It was a crappy ring from a gumball machine that Frank had jokingly given Ryan as a makeshift promise ring. Ryan had stopped wearing it once the silver had begun to wear off and it was starting to turn copper. It stuck out on his ring finger, the hand that was holding out Frank's lunch, obviously showing off the tainted jewelry as some asinine show of the bond between him and Frank. Frank knew that he was jealous, even if Ryan would come to deny it later at home, again, but Frank would call 'bullshit' until he was blue in the face.

"So thoughtful," Frank spoke through gritted teeth, eyes locked with Ryan's, trying to mentally choke him with the Force _._ This wasn't his workplace and he couldn't just turn up on a whim; this was out of line, Ryan should have known. Frank walked towards him, absolutely furious, "What the fuck are you doing here?" Frank hissed as he leaned down closer to Ryan, lowering his voice so Gerard wouldn't hear him.

"I brought you your lunch," Ryan said innocently, voice sickly sweet even though his eyes read otherwise. He glared at Frank, jealousy practically seeping out of every pore while he sat with the man who was apparently more than happy to spend a small fortune on his boyfriend. His smile was wide and showed off every perfect veneer. Frank wanted to sit on him and pull every single tooth out with rusty pliers if he could. He hadn't felt this angry in a long time. Not since they canceled 'Firefly', or when he found out who 'Gossip Girl' actually was in the end. Frank was furious as he snatched the bag out of Ryan's hand, scowling at him before he stood up straight and turned away from him. Frank couldn't even bring himself to look at Ryan right now.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Frank asked, hoping that he would get the hint that he didn't want him here. Frank then noticed that Ryan was sat in the chair wearing part of the plaid suit that he had got Frank to wear yesterday. He had worn the brown paisley pants with a forest green shirt and all of his beads and chains around his neck. He flipped a brown curl and shifted in his chair to look up at Frank from under his lashes. Frank wanted to physically donkey-kick the expression from Ryan's face as he politely asked, "What about work?"

"I got a half-day today, I wanted to surprise you, Frankie," Ryan said far too casually for Frank's liking, making him internally groan The last time he got a half-day was when he had a family arrangement he had to attend. Clearly, he had done this just so he could come in after last night and wanted to get the low-down on Frank's new boss. Ryan tilted his head to the side, "I wanted to surprise you."

Frank muttered under his breath, "That you did in spades"

"It has certainly been interesting to get to know the person that I have heard so much about," Gerard spoke after far too long Frank looked at his boss and saw his eyes practically alight and molten with the humor contained in them, peering at Frank from behind his steepled fingers. He had his elbows on the arms of his desk-chair and had his fingers up and entwined in front of his mouth, resting his index fingers almost between his lips as though contemplating. He was also swaying slowly from side to side in his chair, his eyes never shifting from his assistant at that moment. Frank gave Gerard a pleading look. _Don't do this to me,_ he thought, hoping and praying that this wasn't actually happening.

"Same here," Ryan added with a honey-twisted inflection to his words, "I couldn't resist getting to know the man that Frank had been so excited to interview only days ago. Did you tell him how excited you were, Frank? How nervous you were?"

"Of course, I did," Frank lied, smiling at Ryan. He put his hands on his hips and tried his best to quell the wave of nerve-induced nausea that had him feel as though he were on the deck of a fishing barge, "He knows all that stuff."

"Frank likes to share," Gerard added in simply as he took a sip of his coffee, leaning an arm on his chair, eyes flickering to Ryan's perturbed face before they stopped on Frank's own livid expression. Frank knew his face was fluctuating between red, white, and green. He was pale with anxiety, red with rage, and positively green with quease.

"Well, Ryan was just about to go," Frank stated then as he clasped his hands and turned to look down at his boyfriend pointedly, "Weren't you?"

"But, we were talking about how you're getting along in your new job," Ryan said with a pout, pretending to be bothered that Frank wanted him out, "You're not throwing me out after you just got back?"

"Yes, I am," Frank told him, uncaring that Gerard was watching the two of them right now, analyzing both of them as Frank got Ryan up and out of the chair, "I'm busy. Gerard is busy so, please, if you could..." Frank pushed on Ryan's arm, directing him towards the office door, absolutely seething. He knew they were going to fight when he got home tonight. 'When he got home', being the key phrase. He had promised Gerard that he would do overtime tonight to make up for the minimal time he had spent in the office only yesterday. Ryan was going to be incensed, and Frank could already picture just how that was going to start before he could even walk through his own front door.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ryan," Gerard piped up from his desk, holding up his latte that Frank had given him, "And thank you for my latte, boy. You know just how I like it."

"'Boy'?" Ryan spat out as Frank got him out of the office, looking at him with pure rage and confusion etched into every moisturized pore. He let out a humorless scoff, "He calls you 'boy'?"

"What the fuck do you think you're fucking doing?" Frank finally spat once he got Ryan out of Gerard's office and near the front door. He didn't care if the receptionist was behind her desk, looking startled because Frank had stormed passed, holding onto Ryan's arm with a look of fury on his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ryan replied haughtily, pulling his arm free from Frank's grip.

"You can't just turn up at my fucking job and decide that it's okay to sit with my new boss," Frank hissed. He didn't want to cause a scene, seeing as Derek and Lindsey were still nearby, probably able to hear everything that was going on. He ran a hand through his hair, "Who the fuck does that?"

"Who buys their assistant suits?" Ryan jabbed at Frank, folding his arms over his chest, "Who even calls a grown man 'boy' anyway? Something is not kosher here, Frank."

"I don't know what you _think_ is going on," Frank started, voice wobbling as he tried to control his rage, "But there is nothing. I thought you knew that last night. You've got to get your head out of your own ass, come back to reality and realize you're being an over-jealous bitch."

Ryan flinched at that. He ran his hands over his shirt to neaten it, clearing his throat, "I think I should go,"

"I really think you should," Frank agreed curtly, clenching his fists, one still curled around the handle of his lunchbox; Ryan's fucking kind gesture that came with a hidden agenda. "I'm so fucking mad at you right now."

"You're mad at me?" Ryan scoffed, "That's rich coming from the person who is clearly up to something."

"God, just-" Frank started but couldn't finish his own sentence. He opened the front door, holding it open as he waved a hand at Ryan, signaling him to walk out of it right now.  
_How fucking dare he do this_ , Frank thought as Ryan huffed, taking a step outside.

"Go to Hell, Frank."

He closed the door in his boyfriend's face with a grunt. He turned, muttering to himself, "That's where you belong, you fucking shit. Dethrone Satan himself with that fucking attitude, I swear- Who the fuck does he think-"

"Hey, Frank," He heard, looking up to see Derek stood near their office doorway with a wide smile that seemed way too happy. Derek added in a sing-song, "You might want to check your de-esk..."

Frank was confused; was Derek was dumping a fresh load of work onto his desk to help take his mind off Ryan in the most annoying way possible? Frank skulked into the office to grab the files he no doubtedly had to put away, when he stopped in his tracks. On his desk sat a bunch of red roses and right beside it, a smaller bunch of colored flowers in a lavish display. Ryan had left the flora bouquets along with a lavish box of chocolates. It would have been a nice gesture if Ryan hadn't gone all batshit crazy. Ryan had done this and he assumed that he had done it to mark his territory. It was the grandest gesture to Gerard to back off because Frank was his, and he was Frank's, and that was that. Frank sighed as he opened his lunchbox, tossing his lunch from Ryan into the nearby trash. He scowled, resting his hands on his desk while he looked down at the mess of fucking romance that had been put right where he worked.

This was unbelievable. Frank was all for impromptu romantic gestures, but this had been done with jealousy aforethought. Frank heard a familiar chuckle, looking over his shoulder to see Derek stood in Gerard's office doorway, talking about it with his boss. Gerard looked at him, expression unreadable like earlier. Gerard smirked as Derek looked back at him, chuckling again, making Frank whine and collapse into his chair. He then noticed that flowers and chocolate weren't all that littered his desk. He had missed the three stuffed bears hiding behind all the leaves and petals. He wanted to take a pair of scissors and mutilate their cherry faces smiling smarmily up at him. Frank took a moment to look at the bunch of roses, scanning the box of chocolates. This was not going to work; Ryan was not going to be able to just waltz into his office and mark his territory like a pissing dog telling everyone, including Gerard, in his office to back away from Frank because he was taken.

He stood up, grabbing the roses and chocolates before he left his office, leaving both Derek and Gerard wondering in his wake. _Fuck Ryan and his roses,_ he thought, _Fuck Ryan and his chocolates_.

Frank just wanted to be rid, knowing that one person in the office that would appreciate them. Frank knocked on the door, waiting patiently until he heard ' _come in'_ from the other side. Placing the box of chocolates under his arm, he opened the door, hiding his anger and frustration as he smiled, seeing Lindsey sat at her desk, working away, "Can I help you, sweetie?"

"I noticed that your office didn't have any flowers in it," Frank said while he stepped into the room. Lindsey spotted the roses, eyes going wide at the sight of them. Frank placed them down on her desk, "So, I thought I could brighten the place up a bit. They match your nails and stuff, too. I dunno if girls like that kind of thing but, y'know. Here."

"They're beautiful," Lindsey gushed, picking them up to smell them before she looked at Frank quizzically, "Why are you giving me roses? What did you do?"

"What did I do?"

"I've worked with these people way too long. The only time I get something from them is if they want something or they messed up." She squinted, "What happened?"

"Nothing." Frank lied smoothly, not wanting to tell Lindsey that his boyfriend was a complete tool-bag and he didn't want anything to do with what he had given him, "I just wanted to brighten up your office. Plus, you can have these, too. Figured you might enjoy them more than I will. I'm not a big 'candy' person."

"And you're sure no one died? No one is filing a complaint? You're not trying to soften the blow?"

"No, ma'am." Frank sighed out, smiling as he tucked his hands into his pockets, "Just a nice gesture, especially seeing as I forgot to get you coffee." He handed her the box of chocolates with a smile on his face, hiding his annoyance before he told her that he had to get back to work. Or, get back to quietly fuming at his desk while he did what he had to do. Although, she didn't need to know the latter.

Frank flopped back down into his chair, sighing as he tried to relax. The thought seemed so futile as he tried to breathe through his anger, stopping when he saw a card and a stupid cuddly toy bear that had ' _I love you'_ emblazoned on it still sat on his desk, another smaller pink bear sat beside it holding a heart in its hands. There was a pink fluffy photo frame with a picture of the two of them behind its glass window. More flowers were tucked down the side of his computer. _More flowers to give to Lindsey_ , Frank thought as he picked them up and looked at the yellow blooms. There was a card tucked in between the stems and Frank just sighed. More shit that he had missed. Frank cursed under his breath, ignoring Derek next to him. Frank tossed everything under his desk because he really didn't want to see any of it. He didn't entirely have the heart to throw anything else in the trash, so leaving them hidden under the desk was the next best thing to do. He put his elbows on his desk and closed his eyes, hands in his hair while he tried to lose some of his frustration. _Far too cutesy and so sugary sweet_ , Frank swore he could get diabetes from it. He couldn't; Ryan had infuriated him and now all Frank could think about was how he was going to have to deal with his boyfriend who had clearly gone 'psycho' today.

"Frank?"

"What?" He snapped, spinning round in his chair to see Gerard stood in his office doorway, taken aback. Even Derek looked at him, surprised that Frank had spoken to Gerard like that. He immediately shrunk in his chair, feeling awful because he had retaliated at the wrong person, venting out momentarily until he realized, "God- Sir, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you. I am so-"

"It's okay," Gerard cut him off, looking far too happy for Frank's liking. He had just snapped at his boss and he expected to be pulled into the office to be told off. Gerard just nodded at him with a smile on his face like he understood, and as much as the smile confused Frank, he just felt relieved over the fact that Gerard had said it was okay. He looked down at his watch, "I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind popping out for me again. I fancy some lunch if you feel like getting some air."

"Okay," Frank nodded, pushing his chair away from his desk, standing up to go and do his next task. Thank God, this was getting him out of the office again to calm down. Frank was more than happy he walked up to Gerard, "What am I getting you, sir?"

"Just a BLT sub from the deli around the corner," Gerard told him, handing him some money before holding out something that Frank had left in his office, "Don't forget your coffee."

~

"You coming this time or what?" Derek asked as he stood in the doorway of their office, looking at Frank, who was scribbling notes down in his journal for Gerard.

"No can do," Frank muttered without looking up, copying down the diarized template on his computer screen for the large diary that he carried around for Gerard's various appointments.

"Date night with your... Y'know, I don't even have a word for whatever he is?" Derek snickered and Frank soured, feeling his mood drop yet again, knowing Derek was doing it on purpose.

"No." Frank replied shortly, "I have to work."

"Ah..." Derek muttered, "Should have guessed. Rather you than me, new kid."

"Next time." Frank looked at his screen and then at Derek, "I was supposed to yesterday."

"Whatevs." Derek shrugged before he turned and walked to the door with the rest of the employees, making Frank's stomach churn unhappily, a tidy curl of guilt welling up in his stomach.

"Ah, I'm glad you're still here." Gerard purred, making Frank jump out of his guilted daze and turn in his chair to see his boss leaning in.

"I did promise." Frank smiled, "Ready when you are, sir."

"Good. Go and stretch your legs, we'll be busy for a while." Gerard nodded, "There's a lot for you to handle tonight."

"I'll be alright." Frank stood up with a smile.

"I insist," Gerard stated simply and Frank narrowed his eyes.

"Sir?"

"Yes, boy?" Gerard blinked, raising an eyebrow as Frank put his hands behind his back.

"Would you like coffee?"

"Was I that obvious?" Gerard eyed Frank with a coy smile to his lips, making the latter grin. Gerard said farewell to his employees as they left for the day before he wandered into the small kitchenette where Frank was making them both coffee. Frank glanced up when he saw the shadow move across his periphery, seeing his boss leaning against the doorway to watch him.

"Your boyfriend..." Gerard started up a sudden conversation, "He's..."

"Whatever you're going to say, I can think of something more colorful, trust me. Not that he deserves it." Frank mumbled unhappily as he stirred milk into both cups, throwing the empty carton in the trash before he handed Gerard a mug. They walked back into Gerard's office and Frank watched his boss sit down gracefully in his chair.

"I have no doubt. You looked rather overwrought to see him this morning." Gerard commented simply and Frank frowned. He looked up at him over the rim of his cup when Gerard explained, "Upset, boy."

"Oh..." Frank sighed again, "Well, he didn't tell me. And... I just don't think it's right to pop in at someone's work. Especially if it's a new job. And if they're not there, you leave."

Frank sat down on the floor and began sorting through the enormous pile of paperwork he had already started on the night before, sorting them all out as he had done. Gerard got up and sat down on the food only a few feet away, nursing the mug against his chest, "Well, he seemed dead set on seeing me, too." Gerard stated and Frank looked up at Gerard beside him, "He even asked Hayley if he could come in to see me."

"Of course, he did..." Frank trailed off and looked down to continue alphabetizing the stapled stacks.

"I was on the phone and he just waltzed in and sat down."

"Oh, my God." Frank buried his face in his hands, letting out a whine, "I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Oh, I do." Gerard chuckled slightly as he handed Frank another small stack of papers, "Your little boyfriend is worried. I think he thinks something is going on here, Frank. And I'm almost one-hundred-percent certain that he came in here to check me out."

"I- You know?"

"Of course I know." Gerard took a sip of his coffee, a sly smile curled one corner of his lips, "I'm not an idiot, boy. You're his boyfriend and I did a grand gesture, and he's worried about the stability of your relationship."

"And I'm worried about the stability of his head." Frank snarked, making Gerard snort into his cup.

"I doubt there is any stability at the moment. He's a little jealous, I think. And definitely suspicious like an insecure housewife with an attractive husband." Gerard signed away on some papers before handing them over, "I doubt you being here after hours will help."

"Yeah, well..." Frank put them in the correct pile, trying not to focus on the fact that Gerard had called him 'attractive'. He swallowed as he continued, "I don't exactly feel like going home, even if I didn't promise to stay after work."

"It's sweet that he's so territorial. Although, the flowers were a bit much." Gerard snickered, "I see you gave them to Lindsey. She came in to brag, carrying them around in her arms like Betty Belfour."

"Who?"

"An English actress during the 'silent era' of film," Gerard explained, sipping his coffee, "She played a woman in a series of films who used to sell flowers."

"You know a lot of random shit, don't you?"

"I know much about everything and everything about much." Gerard smiled, "Rather that than everything about nothing and nothing about anything."

"So, when Lindsey came to parade her flowers around," Frank took a sip of coffee, "You didn't tell her why I gave them to her, right?"

"Heavens no, dear boy." Gerard chuckled as he read through a contract idly, "For which kind of monster do you take me? I would never break my wife's heart like that. She enjoys a financial display as much as the next person."

"Hope she likes them." Frank shrugged, "I don't want them."

"It's making me look bad." Gerard smiled, "I haven't bought her flowers in a while and my assistant one-ups me, chocolates and all."

"Sorry." Frank blushed, "Next time I'll give them to Derek." Gerard let out a loud chuckle at Frank's dry comment, covering his mouth with his hand at the thought, a wide grin hidden that made Frank smile lightly for the first time that day.

"Frank, may I ask you something... Slightly intrusive?" Gerard queried and Frank nodded, looking up at Gerard, who had steepled his fingers for a moment, brows furrowed in thought, "Your boyfriend..."

"What about the malevolent gremlin?" Frank asked and Gerard tried to hide the smile on his lips before he cleared his throat.

"You mentioned that you boys have a date night every Tuesday. Like a routine."

"Yes, sir."

Gerard pursed his lips, "Is that... The only routine between you two?"

"Well..." Frank trailed off, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly, "No..."

"That's what I thought," Gerard nodded, "But Frank, just remember something."

"What, sir?"

"Paulo Coelho once said that 'adventure is dangerous but routine is lethal'. Remember those words."

"Hi, boys." A voice called out, making them both look up in surprise. Lindsey had just walked in, smiling to herself as she waltzed into the office and looked down at Frank on the floor beside Gerard with a raised eyebrow, "Having fun?"

"Superfluous amounts." Frank sighed softly, making her giggle as she set a plastic bag down on Gerard's desk. Frank noted that she had dressed down, obviously having gone home. She had kept the beautiful floral blouse on from earlier but had traded her leather skirt and stilettos for dark jeans and ballet pumps. She smiled at them warmly, "I didn't want you boys working into the night without food so... I brought you some Chinese."

Frank straightened up at the thought of food, eyeing the bag on Gerard's desk when he realized something that made his stomach sink. Lindsey didn't know he was a vegetarian; no one knew, Frank was sure that Gerard didn't even know. Frank hoped that Lindsey had gotten something plain or else he'd either have to break the news and her heart or tough it out and eat meat. Lindsey unpacked the white take out containers onto the desk as Frank got up onto his knees beside Gerard and had a closer look.

"You didn't have to do this..." Gerard sighed softly, looking flustered, "You're too good to me, honestly."

"Of course I did, you old grump. I'm not letting my husband starve because he's a workaholic." She looked at Frank, "I'm certainly not letting you starve after you bought me such lovely flowers, sweetie."

"So, what, uh..." Frank cleared his throat, "What did you get?"

"I got Gerard his favorite." She pushed two containers towards her husband, "Sweet and sour pork, and fried noodles." Gerard let out a small hum as he opened one of them and peered in, smiling happily as Lindsey pushed a container towards Frank, "And for you, I got a vegetable chow mein."

"You..." Frank frowned at the food and at her, "How did you-?"

"Gerard told me." Lindsey smiled as she stashed the plastic into her handbag. Frank looked at Gerard with a raised eyebrow, looking at his boss' all-knowing gaze with complete confusion.

"A good boss knows his employees, Frank. And besides..." Gerard took a set of chopsticks from his wife, "Ryan told me."

"He did?" Frank tilted his head to the side, "How did that even come up?"

"He was trying to one-up me on you. Telling me that he knows you more than I do, so I decided to use his jealousy for my own gain. I asked him what things he knew that I didn't, and he took the bait and prattled on for a bit. You being a vegetarian was one of the things."

"Oh, God." Frank slid a set of chopsticks towards himself, "Dare I ask what else he said?"

"Your favorite color is dark green or teal." Gerard shoveled a bite of pork into his mouth, "You love Dead Kennedys and Korn. Your parents split when you were three years old and you have a number of body modifications, tattoos, and otherwise. You walked in as he was about to tell me in detail, but I got the picture."

"Oh." Frank went bright red in the face and slightly relieved that his boss wasn't aware of whatever was going on under his clothing, piercings included, "Right."

"You have tattoos?" Lindsey asked with a smile. Frank opened his take out and picked it up, sitting back on the floor with his legs crossed before he looked at the pages around him. He scooted back on his ass and away from the important files.

"Yeah." Frank then began eating, chewing happily on his noodles, "Quite a few. Not as many as I want, though."

"I wish I could." Lindsey pouted, "Maybe later in life. A lot of people already question what I have."

"Yeah," Frank swallowed, "It sucks. In my first three job applications, I got turned down because of my appearance. I mean, before I worked at the paper."

"They don't know what they're missing." Gerard piped up as he bit into a piece of pork, eyeing Frank out of his periphery, making the latter blush.

"I better get going." Lindsey smiled, "I'm glad you boys are fed. I bought milk earlier for the fridge so there is coffee for you. as well. Do you need anything else, lovely?"

"I'm fine, dear." Gerard smiled, "You're more than welcome to go back to your TV shows. I hear Carrie Bradshaw and Big are getting back together again."

"Don't spoil it." She kissed him chastely on the temple, "I'll see you later."

"Bye, dear." Gerard watched her leave before he sat back in his chair, setting his food down, "Enjoying yourself?"

"Mm-hmm." Frank managed around his mouthful of food, smiling awkwardly at his boss, who reciprocated warmly.

"Good. I'm glad you're eating." Gerard pushed his food aside, "You eat while I carry on, there's a lot to do here."


	19. I Can Safely Say That One of Us Grew Up

Frank was finally home, he had finally decided that he had to be considering it was just after ten at night. He had finished with Gerard at least a half-hour ago and took the slowest drive home in existence. But he couldn’t prolong the inevitable anymore, he couldn’t be out, he didn’t have anything else to do. He walked into the house and shut the door, locking it behind him before he put his keys and wallet in the bowl. Frank looked around, seeing the house empty, and he sighed as he hoped Ryan would be in bed and asleep. Frank knew he was going to sleep on the sofa anyway, but the softer part of him had to at least go upstairs and make sure Ryan was breathing. Frank walked up the stairs one by one, realizing with each one just how tired he actually had become. He made it, begrudgingly, to the top of the landing and walked into their bedroom to see Ryan sitting on the bed. He sat in the middle of the bed with his legs crossed, still dressed from that afternoon. Frank blinked in surprise, “You’re awake.”

Ryan’s tone was curt and guarded, “You’re home.”

“I am.” Frank nodded as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up in the wardrobe.

“Late,”

“A lot to do.” Frank sighed as he loosened his tie.

“I bet.” Ryan folded his arms and Frank raised an eyebrow, turning to look at his boyfriend, who was staring him down icily.

“What’s pissing in your cereal?” Frank asked as he kicked off his shoes and bent down to pull his socks from his feet. He threw them in the hamper and spun around again to see Ryan still looking sour, “What is it?”

“Are you fucking your boss, or not?” Ryan asked simply and Frank did a double-take, faltering in surprise at Ryan’s blatant and ridiculous question. And at the crude language- Language of which Ryan was not usually a fan.

“I- You’re kidding?” Frank scoffed. Ryan shrugged his shoulders coldly as he folded his arms, “You’re genuinely calling me out on an affair with a Congressman of New Jersey?”

“Well…” Ryan narrowed his eyes, “It would make sense.”

“‘Make sense’?” Frank asked, bewildered as he unfastened his belt, “You do know that we’re in a relationship, right? You and me… Or, have you been dissociated for over half a decade?”

“'Now' isn’t the time for your sarcasm.” Ryan said flippantly, “You’re not saying ‘no’.”

“Because you’re being ridiculous!” Frank scoffed, “I’m not fucking my boss.”

“Then, what about the stuff he’s given you?”

“Stuff I needed.” Frank replied almost instantly, suddenly feeling repugnant towards his boyfriend, “Stuff I didn’t have.”

“Then, where have you been all week?” 

“At work, Ryan.” Frank pulled his belt from the loops and lay it down in the wardrobe in a tight coil, “Working with my boss on overtime so I can make more money.”

“Or suck him off.” Ryan scoffed.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Frank stated simply, hearing Ryan scoff again, “Mainly because I’m in a relationship, but I also don’t want to embarrass myself because I’m out of practice with sucking dick.”

“That’s…” Ryan trailed off, “An unnecessary jab at me and you know it.”

“Do I, though?” Frank asked with an eye roll, “You’re being so dramatic. Nothing is going on.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No.” Frank straightened up, getting angry now, “You don’t  _ trust  _ me.”

“I do.” Ryan countered and Frank raised both hands in defeat before he turned and walked out of the bedroom to go and make coffee, “Don’t you walk away from me.”

“And look at me doing it, though.” Frank replied as he walked down the stairs and into the hallway, “Look. I’m still doing it.”

“Frank, get back here.”

“No!” Frank yelled, “I’ve had a long day as it was without you going all ‘Sherlock Holmes, Private Eye’ on my new boss! I know what you were doing!”

“Which is?” Ryan asked as he reappeared in the kitchen doorway much to Frank’s obvious dismay. Frank merely scoffed at Ryan as he began making himself a coffee. Ryan scowled, “Don’t ignore me.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do.” Frank hissed, “I don’t need to fucking obey you.”

“Don’t take that tone with me!” Ryan yelled, making Frank grip the counter tightly with white knuckles.

“Don’t fucking yell at me!” Frank turned on Ryan, furious and angry bubbles boiling in his stomach, “I don’t need to answer to you! You were there for more than just bringing me lunch, Ryan!”

“And you’re doing more than filing and fetching coffee!” Ryan screamed back and Frank flinched, his hands curling into fists.

“No, the fuck I’m not!” 

“Stop denying it, Frank!” Ryan walked into the kitchen and Frank stepped back, keeping his distance just in case he decided to throttle Ryan, “I know you’re fucking him!”

“First off…” Frank seethed, “Even if I was fucking my boss, I would definitely not be topping and secondly… And, most importantly-”

“Wait-” Ryan interrupted Frank, stopping him immediately, making him sigh out deliberately and put his hands on his hips, “You wouldn’t top?”

“Is that really what you’re on about?”

“You’re not a bottom.” Ryan scoffed, “You’ve never… Are you?”

“That’s not the point.” Frank ran a hand through his hair, “You’re forgetting one major thing, Ryan.”

“Answer me.”

“Ryan.”

“Frank, answer me for fuck’s sake.”

“Ryan! Leave it alone! The man is married!” Frank yelled loudly, startling Ryan, “Do you fucking realize the man is married?! And, may I fucking add, to a woman!”

“W- I forgot….”

“And she works with us, Ryan!” Frank seethed, “She was there tonight, too. And if you had asked, and not just jumped to conclusions, then you would have known that, for fuck’s sake!”

“That means nothing.”

“Not everyone is a fucking cheater, Ryan! What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My fucking problem is you fucking your boss!” Ryan screamed back when Frank let out an aggravated scream before he grabbed the first thing he could and threw it, aiming his coffee mug in Ryan’s general direction.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn!” Frank screamed as the coffee mug hit the side of one of the top cabinets and shattered in pieces on the floor, sending coffee powder and sugar everywhere, and making Ryan jump out of the way, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Nothing!” Ryan screamed back as he grabbed his hair with tears in his eyes, “You’re the one who’s lying!”

“I’m not fucking lying, Ryan!” Frank didn’t know what to do, feeling his every sinew strung up, his whole body thrumming with fury, “You’re being so stupid!”

“No!” Ryan yelled back, “You fucking wish I was! So I wouldn’t see it! I do, I fucking do!”

“You’re deranged!” Frank clutched the counter, turning from Ryan, his head swimming in thick and bright red fury-laced molasses, “Just go away.”

“No.” Ryan said firmly, “Not until you admit it.”

“I have nothing to admit.” Frank forced back tears, “I’ve done nothing.”

“Oh no, apparently not,” Ryan said simply. Frank frowned and turned to look at his boyfriend, “You’re not the ‘doer’ in that relationship, right?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” Frank sighed softly, trying to control his shaking hands, “What would you like me to do, Ryan? Would you like me to phone him so you can ask him, huh?”

“No.” Ryan folded his arms, “He wouldn’t tell me. I could see it this morning. He’s too smooth to be caught lying.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Frank scoffed, “How dare you?”

“You’re resilient.” Ryan narrowed his eyes, “I know you’re fucking him.”

“Would you like to give my asshole a feel? Would that make you feel better? Any lube, any less tight?” Frank asked as he took a step closer, “It’ll be the first time you ever go anywhere near my asshole so how would you fucking know anyway?”

“That’s uncalled for.”

“So is this!” Frank ran his hands over his face, “This completely unnecessary intervention.”

“I’d rather this were a fucking intervention.” Ryan spat.

“If anyone’s on drugs here, it’s you. You’re fucking insane and I’m so fucking hurt that you think that of me, Ryan.”

“It’s not you that I’m worried about. It’s him. But it involves you.” Ryan countered swiftly and Frank shook his head, “Don’t shake your head at me.”

“I fucking will. Don’t. Tell. Me. What. To do.” Frank spat, “You’re not the boss of me.”

“Bet that’s not what you say to him, is it?” Ryan spat back and Frank felt something in him snap, he felt as though he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t take what Ryan had become. He knew that it would only get worse and that Ryan was like a pitbull, once he locked his jaws in something he would never let it go.

“Y’know what?” Frank muttered softly, “Fuck this.” He turned and walked away from Ryan towards the living room.

“Where are you going?”

“I said ‘fuck this’.”

Ryan walked into the living room, watching Frank sit down on the sofa. The air was still tense as Ryan came to a halt a few feet away from him, watching him for a second. Frank looked somewhat deflated, worn down and tired while he held his head in his hands, taking a moment to himself, not realizing that Ryan had followed him. Like a punch to the gut that had winded him; it silenced him and made him actually take a moment to assess the situation that had unraveled. Couples fought and he knew that, but there was someone that felt so unhealthy recently with their fights.   


A moment to just collect his thoughts and figure out what he was actually going to do. What was happening between himself and Ryan, it wasn’t healthy. Their whole relationship seemed somewhat messed up and not normal. But not now. It had all come to ahead. Like Frank was standing on the edge of a cliff. He could walk away and it would all remain the same, or he could jump and change everything. Break everything and start all over again now that he had opened his eyes and realize that this wasn’t working. The truth was that it hadn’t been working for so long, but he had just gotten so used to it. Right now while he sat on the sofa, trying to breathe evenly while he collected his thoughts in his head. Frank noticed that he wasn’t alone after a moment of contemplation. He sighed, shaking his head, “You calmed down yet?”   
  
“Are you going to tell me the truth?” Ryan asked, folding his arms across his chest. It was good that they weren’t shouting; Frank was tired of shouting at Ryan. He scoffed, shaking his head again at Ryan before he sat back on the sofa.   
  
“I did tell you the truth,” Frank told him again, hoping that Ryan would listen to him and just drop this nonsense. Not that it mattered if he dropped it or not; Frank was at a point where he was so close to making up his mind on the situation. How could it work and stay strong on its foundations if Ryan wasn’t going to believe him?   
  
“I’m sorry,” Ryan started, taking a few steps forward so he could be closer to Frank. Frank eyed Ryan with disgust as though the very idea of being in his general vicinity had him queasy, “But, I find that so hard to believe when you spend most of your nights with him.”   
  
Frank groaned.  _ Not this again _ , he thought. Why couldn’t Ryan believe him? He could understand if he had done something behind Ryan’s back before, breaking the trust in the past. But he had never done anything to jeopardize their relationship. Everything he had done, it had been done with Ryan in his mind and in his heart. He looked away, seething as he rolled his tongue stud against his teeth, “I told you… I’ve been working overtime to make more money. Just because I’ve done that, for us, may I add, doesn’t mean that I’m fucking him.”   
  
“I find that hard to believe,” Ryan snorted, making Frank roll his eyes and curse under his breath, muttering, “What did you just say?”   
  
“I said, ‘I find you hard to believe a lot of the time’,” Frank spoke up, sitting up before making eye contact with Ryan.   
  
“What is  _ that  _ supposed to mean?”   
  
“You know exactly what I mean. The moment someone does anything nice to me, you think that there is something going on behind your back.” Frank looked down at his feet when Ryan snorted an incredulous breath.   
  
“You’re being ridiculous-”   
  
“I’m being ridiculous?” Frank exclaimed, not quite believing that Ryan was being like this. Shouting one thing at him minutes before and then coming back while completely contradicting himself. He knew that Ryan was being over-the-top with all of this. He clearly also wasn’t letting it go and as much as Frank wanted this all to be dropped so they could move past it, he wasn’t ready to move on from it. 

“You’re the one who is letting your boss of less than a week buy you expensive suits,” Ryan said, making Frank groan, “You must be letting him do other things if he is willing to spend an inordinate amount of money on you.”   
  
“I didn’t let him,” Frank reminded Ryan, hoping to jog his memory so they weren’t going to have to have this conversation all over again, “He saw what I was wearing and fixed it. For your information, I told him that he didn’t have to do this for me.”   
  
“And he still bought you the suits?”   
  
“He insisted,” Frank told him, “He stopped me. He said something along the lines of ‘when someone offers to do something for you and it means you keep your job, you take it’.”   
  
“Yeah, I bet you took it,” Ryan shot back with venom laced into his voice. His comeback, especially after what Frank had said in the kitchen, was more pointed than ever, “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”   
  
“So, I made one comment in the kitchen and now that is what you are focusing on?” Frank questioned, wondering what in the fuck was going on in Ryan's head. Frank knew that Ryan had stewed on all of this for the entire day, making it worse for himself. He scowled at the latter, “Can you blame me for saying it?”   
  
“Well, the fact that you said it proves that something is going on,” Ryan said quickly, making Frank feel the temperature rising in him again. The anger that he had got to calm down was bubbling up again. He knew that he had never lied to Ryan before, so how could he go from being a loving and trusting boyfriend to the crazy paranoid boyfriend that was standing near him, in three days?   
  
“It doesn’t prove anything.”   
  
“Of course it does,” Ryan scoffed, “It proves  _ everything _ .”   
  
“No, it proves that you’re selfish.” Frank fired back, making Ryan stop dead in his tracks and remain silent, “How can you be so frigid when all you’ve done in life is take it in the ass?” 

“I’m not selfish.” Ryan protested.   
  
“Then, how come the only thing that's ever been in my ass is my own fingers?” Frank queried, making Ryan screw up his nose at his words.   
  
“You’re disgusting,” Ryan spoke, “Trust you to turn this on to how you ‘supposedly’ get nothing out of this.”    
  
“Because I don’t!” Frank snapped, finally feeling the need to let go of everything that he had ever held in from the moment Ryan had started with his need for routine and order in their relationship. The tight, held together coils inside of him finally snapped, letting go of everything that he had ever held back on, “For far too long, everything in this relationship has been done for you! Done  _ by  _ you. Your need for routine... It's insane! I have never known a person to be like you, so meticulous with everything in their life, even down to the way you have sex. Which, may I say, is a fucking rarity in itself.”   
  
“Here we go,” Ryan threw his hands up in the air, “Frank has brought the topic of conversation onto the one thing he always thinks about. Sex. For God’s sake… Is that really all you think about?”   
  
“When I barely get any, yeah,” Frank snorted, standing up to be face to face with Ryan. Frank hated standing to argue because Ryan was looking down at him like he was the problem in all of this. Frank knew he wasn't the problem but Ryan always turned his nose down on Frank as though he were a vial of smallpox, “You think I enjoy it when all we do is the same thing over and over again… And not even over and over again because it's not about me when it comes to sex. It’s about you and what you want and when you want it. Only what you want and, wow, I get lucky one day a year when you decide that it’s okay to do it differently. When it’s okay to mix it up for once. Literally once.”   
  
“How dare you?” Ryan snapped, raising his voice again, something that Frank really didn’t want happening. If he shouted then Frank shouted, and then it would all just get out of control again. He just wanted to sort this out once and for all but Ryan would never allow something like this to be settled calmly, “It is never always about me. If you want it to be different then talk to me. Actually tell me and we can talk about it.”   
  
“That's the thing, though, Ry,” Frank shook his head., “I bring up ideas to mix it up and you just shoot me down. For God’s sake, you’re the only gay guy I know who doesn’t even like sucking dick.”   
  
“Excuse me,” Ryan jabbed a finger pointedly towards Frank, “I did last week, or have you forgotten about that?”   
  
“Have I forgotten about the  _ one time _ my boyfriend actually gave me oral?” Frank shot the question back, “No. I don’t forget fucking miracles.”   
  
“Is this really what we are arguing about?” Ryan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You and your lack of oral sex?”   
  
“No!” Frank exclaimed, wondering if Ryan had taken a blow to the head since he had accused him, the moment he walked into the bedroom, not even half an hour ago, “We are arguing because you think I’ve been fucking my boss!”   
  
“Which you still haven’t denied.” Ryan huffed out, giving Frank a knowing look that made him throw his hands up in the air.   
  
“I told you that nothing is going on!” Frank repeated, finding it astounding that Ryan wasn’t believing him. Over six years had really come to this. No trust? No belief in a word Frank was saying? There was a metaphorical towel and Frank knew he was close to throwing it, “What do I have to say that will make you believe me?”   
  
“You don’t have to say anything,” Ryan told him, “I just don’t know if I can trust you when this man is out there, throwing money at you when you have barely known him two weeks! Frank, he’s grooming you! Clearly, he is doing this for a reason and I’m sure that reason involves you giving him something more than money for it!”   
  
“Where the hell are you getting this from, Ryan?” Frank questioned, hoping to understand why Ryan was so set on the idea that this was happening behind his back. Had he lost a screw in his head and that was making him believe this bullshit that he had concocted? Frank took a step back, “I can’t fucking work out why you’re being like this? What the hell did I do to make you turn psycho all of a sudden.”   
  
“Don’t call me that-”   
  
“Then, don’t act like it!” Frank shouted, making Ryan recoil a little because of the volume of his voice, “When I told you about the job, you went full-on about what we could do with the extra money. You were so happy about me taking the job.”   
  
“Yeah,” Ryan snorted, “I was. Didn’t know that your boss was going to be grooming you.”   
  
“God’s sake, Ryan,” Frank groaned, feeling like they were going round in circles. He couldn’t do this; he was getting a headache from the small act of trying to be reasonable. Frank couldn’t cope with it and he couldn’t even bring himself to fix it anymore, “I can’t fucking do this.”   
  
“What do you mean you ‘can’t fucking do this’?”   
  
“I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore. You not believing me when I’ve been telling you the God's honest truth. You being so adamant that our relationship has to be done your way or no way. I just…”   
  
Ryan faltered, “What?”   
  
“I can’t do this anymore.” Frank sighed out, giving in to what felt right in his head. Finally admitting defeat after six years of trying so hard to make this work. It had worked, but those days were gone. He couldn't see it being worked out, especially when Ryan probably wouldn’t trust him despite having not done a single thing wrong.   
  
“What do you mean?” Ryan asked, frowning.

“I mean…” Frank started, trying to choose his words carefully because he knew that once he said what he wanted to say, there was going to be no going back from this at all. He scratched at the back of his neck, “I can’t do  _ us _ anymore, Ry.”   
  
“Wh-What do you mean ‘us’?” Ryan stammered out, his cheeks flushing a mortified pink that Frank recognized. It was a shade of pink that didn’t often feature on Ryan’s face but when it did, it was instantly recognizable. Denial. The pink cheeks and furrowed brow that mixed in with his shifting eyes and fidgeting fingers. Denial’s cocktail had been thrown back like a shot of whiskey and it was burning in Ryan’s throat. He was refusing to accept the cards he had been dealt, unable to look at the numbers and realize he had lost his hand.

“I mean…” Frank sighed. He knew he had to be strong now that the words had been spoken. He had his exit; the door was wide open. He just had to walk through it alone, “Ryan, look at us. This is not healthy.”   
  
“I don't know what you mean.” He said voice wavering. Frank recognized it immediately; the wobble in his voice was a sign that he was on the brink of crying. Ryan knew what he meant. Frank could tell. He hoped that Ryan wouldn't break down, even though he knew it was inevitable. Frank could never hold it together when Ryan started crying, it was always a chain reaction between the two of him. It didn’t matter if Ryan was crying because of a movie or a bad day, if there were tears for one then there were tears for both..   
  
“What, we have-  _ Had _ , especially in high school. It worked. We worked then… But recently… It's just not the same anymore,” Frank began because he knew this wasn't just going to be a simple talk before they both parted ways. He tried to avoid looking at Ryan. He could just picture the quiver on his bottom lip without looking at him“And now you accuse me- Tell me- That I'm sleeping with my new boss that I've been working with for less than a week. Dude, do you realize I’ve literally been working there for three days? Three days, Ryan. You What the hell happened, Ryan?”   
  
“I don't know.”   
  
“I could cope with the routine, Ry, just,” Frank spoke, glancing at him briefly for a moment before he looked back down at his hands, trying to find the right words in his head, “I did that for you because I know you like your routine. The same things day-in, day-out. Week after week. Month after month. Year- You can see where I'm going with this.” Ryan sniffed, not saying a word. Frank closed his eyes after he heard Ryan, hoping and praying to God that he wasn't crying already, “I g-gave up so much to keep you happy… Trying not to p-pester for stuff that I knew you wouldn't want to do-”   
  
“But you- you  _ have  _ been doing it recently,” Ryan pointed out, “You made me uncomfortable… Bringing food into bed.”   
  
“I was trying to keep us going!” Frank told him, looking at Ryan who he knew was trying to come across as innocent. He had done nothing wrong even though he was the catalyst for all of this. He would never cheat on Ryan, never hurt him in that way. He saw the glistening tears and he looked away, “Do you know what it's like to be in a relationship where you don't know when your partner is actually going to want to be with you? Not knowing if it is a good thing, or a bad thing, if your boyfriend says ‘no’ to sex on a regular basis?”    
  
“It's all you ever want!”   
  
“Because I'm deprived of it! You took something away from me that we used to love. You took away my freedom with it, telling me how it was going to be, on your terms alone.” Frank carried on, watching Ryan bow his head down, staring at his hands because he couldn't bring himself to look at the one person who was supposed to love him. Now tearing apart what he thought had been working for so long. Clearly not now.   
  
“I thought you were happy,” Ryan said weakly, a shuddering breath made his shoulders shake and sag as he looked at his shoes.   
  
“I was, we were,” Frank told him, taking in a breath, collecting himself before continuing, “But this can't go on like this. Ryan…” He looked down, “Ry, I'm sorry. I can't do this, I really want to say that it's not you, it's me… But, then, I would be lying and just…”   
  
“It's over. Isn't it?” Ryan asked. The atmosphere in the room and the way Frank was talking, it was obvious. Frank couldn't even bring himself to say ‘yes’. It was over. The nod Frank give him, avoiding eye contact while he did, it was enough for Ryan. Neither of them said anything for a minute. The room remained silent as the news sunk in.   
  
Frank was preparing himself for what was possibly going to come. He knew that Ryan wasn’t going to take the ‘it’s over’ and walk away with just that. Frank knew that he would want reasons and answers. Ryan would still try to make out that Frank was partially, if not completely, to blame for this break up happening. 

“So, you’re leaving me for him?”   
  
Frank couldn’t believe what he had just heard. The fact that those words actually left Ryan’s mouth in the first place. He was astounded that Ryan was being so stubborn and so adamant that he knew what was going on. Frank just stood there, looking at Ryan, watching him in sheer amazement. He stared at Ryan incredulously, “I can’t believe you sometimes-”   
  
“You’re not denying it-”   
  
“I’m not leaving you for my boss!” Frank shouted, making Ryan flinch and yelp, looking down, “I’m leaving you because I swear to God you’re fucking crazy!”   
  
“Don’t call me that!”   
  
“Don’t fucking act like a crazy bitch, then!” Frank shouted again. He assumed that there would be tears from Ryan, but not more of this. Frank couldn’t take it. How the fuck would they have been able to come back from this if Frank hadn’t ended it all. Ryan saw red, needing to vent, needing to let Frank know exactly how he felt. He was so furious, so upset, so everything that was mixing in him and running on high. He grabbed a nearby vase, letting out a scream before he threw it in Frank’s direction.   
  
Frank luckily dodged the projectile, cursing when the vase hit the wall behind him, smashing into a thousand many pieces that he would not be cleaning up. Ryan was being so bombastic over something that wasn’t even true. The very idea that Frank was leaving him for Gerard, Ryan had completely lost his fucking mind. He had to retaliate, fight fire with fire as he grabbed the nearest thing to him- The bowl on the coffee table. Frank flung it at Ryan, fighting back. The bowl flew threw the air, missing Ryan and smashing on the kitchen floor. What Frank hadn’t noticed, in his fit of anger, was that the bowl hadn’t been empty. Trust him to go and throw the one thing that was full of Ryan’s fucking stupid potpourri. The shit that was dotted everywhere around the house, it was now all over the floor.   
  
“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Frank shouted at Ryan, taking in a breath, trying to calm himself down. That wasn’t happening anytime soon. \ Frank was livid over the fact that Ryan had been the one to throw first.   
  
“What the fuck is wrong with  _ you _ ?!” Ryan snapped back, still shocked that Frank had actually thrown something at him.   
  
“You!” Frank bellowed, anger firing out in his words. Frank felt exhausted from all of this; the fight and throwing; the shouting and the ending, He ran his hands through his hair, pacing the room while Ryan watched him, stewing away.   
  
“That could have gone in my eye!”   
  
“Yeah, well, maybe then you’ll see sense!” Frank shot back before standing still in the middle of the living room. Silence fell again, the air in the room calmed. There was still tension, but at least they weren’t shouting at each other. Frank was grateful for that because Ryan was starting to give him a headache.   
  
“What happened to us?” Ryan asked, breaking the silence. He had taken a moment to calm down, looking at the pieces of potpourri scattered around him on the floor. Looking up to Frank, Ryan didn’t know where they had gone wrong. He thought everything was okay before now.   
  
“We grew up,” Frank said, looking back at Ryan, “Maybe we worked when we were in high school. Maybe that was all it should have been.”   
  
“Well,” Ryan snorted at him, “I can safely say that one of us grew up.”   
  
“What is that supposed to mean?” Frank frowned, not sure if Ryan was insulting him or not.   
  
“ _ I _ grew up,” Ryan pointed a finger at his own chest, “We moved in together and I grew up. I took responsibility. I became an adult while you just stayed stuck in high school.  _ You  _ stayed exactly how you used to be back then.”   
  
“I grew up!” Frank exclaimed, shocked that Ryan was actually insulting him like this, “I grew up just as much as you did! I took responsibility. I got a job to support us. We moved in and started an adult relationship and I went with it. I grew up for you!”   
  
“That’s the thing,” Ryan sighed, shaking his head, “You grew up for us… But did you actually really grow up for yourself?”   
  
“I did!” Frank reassured him, “I just didn’t become a middle-aged man before my time. At least, I still have my youth and a fucking sense of humor, unlike you, you fucking…” Frank couldn’t think of an insult. So angry, he just said the first thing that popped into his head, “You bitch-tit.”   
  
Ryan recoiled at the insult, screwing up his face in confusion, “And, what the fuck pray-tell, is a bitch tit?”   
  
Frank scowled at Ryan, annoyed at how he was being so fucking persnickety over the minor details, “It’s a saggy, overused dog tit, you bitch-tit.”   
  
“See, this is proof that you haven’t grown up,” Ryan spoke, getting incensed at how immature Frank was being. Ryan was not having it, “You’re still the emo kid that I remember from high school. I mean, what adult, in their right mind, goes around calling their other half a ‘bitch tit’?”   
  
“An ex-other half,” Frank said pointedly, deflating Ryan a little bit, “Fine. Let’s say you grew up more than I did. Do you not see what it did to me?”   
  
“I don’t understand…”   
  
“You grew up wanting everything that life could give you,” Frank started, hoping that Ryan would understand without having to actually spell it all out for him, “I grew up, but I take every day as it comes. I never planned out my future as meticulously as you did.”   
  
“And what’s wrong with wanting to plan for my future?”   
  
“What's wrong with it?” Frank almost snarled, “You got so wrapped up in what you wanted, you didn’t take into consideration what I wanted.”   
  
“I always took your feelings into consideration!”   
  
“Oh, please,” Frank snorted, shaking his head, “Remember when I told you that I got offered the job? The first thing you went to was ‘commitment’. You talked about us getting engaged. You talked about it like you already had it planned out in your head.”   
  
“Is that such a bad thing?” Ryan queried, “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I knew that. So is it such a bad thing that I suggested we get engaged? I thought you wanted that, too.” Frank didn’t say anything. He just looked at Ryan, giving him a sad, apologetic look that told him exactly how Frank felt about what he wanted. Ryan bit his lip, his eyes widening as a sheepish expression twisted his features, “You didn’t want that… Did you?”   
  
“I don’t like being pressured into things like that,” Frank explained, “The fact that I also found your work notebook where you practiced your signature with my surname…” Ryan blushed brightly at that. He had no idea that Frank knew about that, “...That terrified me because you were ready and I was nowhere near ready for that kind of commitment. You became so full-on that you pushed me away.”   
  
“I never meant to,” Ryan told him, his voice small, getting smaller while he fought back on what was threatening to spill from his eyes.   
  
“But you still did… And then the way you reacted over my boss buying me suits… Coming into his office and sitting with him, for fuck sake.”   
  
“That’s weird and you know it,” Ryan groused, standing his ground when he looked down at what Frank was still wearing; one of the black shirts and the black pants that Gerard had bought him.   
  
“It’s not weird,” Frank insisted, “Stop thinking it is. He was just helping me out. And, please, stop thinking that I’m sleeping with him. I would never do that to you and you should’ve known it.”   
  
“But you’re still leaving me.”   
  
“And, I’m not leaving you for him. I’m leaving you because…” Frank couldn’t finish his sentence. He knew exactly why he was leaving Ryan. He had told him but summarising it into a few words, it just felt so bad. As much as Frank wanted out, he didn’t want to hurt Ryan. Yes, Ryan had hurt him, but Frank didn’t need to see the waterworks on Ryan or he, too, would end up crying. Six years just went down the drain; he was leaving Ryan, but this was still hurting him, too.

“Because?”   
  
“I told you, Ry,” Frank sighed, “You know why.”   
  
“But I wanted a life with you,” Ryan whispered, his voice edged on a plea, showing that even after the way he had been, there were still feelings there. Ryan still wanted a future with Frank, “You were my white picket fence, Frankie. I wanted to be your husband.”   
  
“Ryan,” Frank groaned, “I don’t want that. The idea of committing for life, to  _ that  _ life… That scares the shit out of me. I never promised that I would spend forever with you. I loved you, but I never wanted that kind of commitment. I never wanted to be tied down like that. I don’t want a husband and a nice house in the suburbs. I don’t want a minivan and kids. I don’t want the picket fence and the PTA meetings. That’s you, not me.”   
  
“But, I love you…” Ryan said, voice small and broken like he was close to breaking down, hoping that his admittance would save them from the inevitable.   
  
“I  _ loved  _ you,” Frank returned, the three words barely making it passed his lips, “But after what you accused me of, and how we have ended up, I just… Ry, can’t you see how stale we got?”   
  
“I thought we were fine.”   
  
“We were, back when we first started dating, but recently we’ve just got so stagnant. Our routine and everything…” Frank spoke, remembering what Gerard had told him in the office. The quote that rang so true right now, “I got told once that adventure is dangerous but routine is lethal. Your routine has killed the relationship. Your need for-”   
  
“That’s Paulo Coelho,” Ryan cut Frank off, recognizing the quote immediately. He narrowed his eyes at him. Frank didn’t seem like the kind of person to know anything about Coelho, let alone any of his quotes, “How do you know about him? When have you ever given a shit about Brazilian literature?”

“I just do,” Frank answered quickly, knowing that if he told Ryan about what Gerard had offered, it would not go down well at all. A sure-fire way to make Ryan blow up like a volcano.

“He told you, didn’t he?” Ryan assumed. Frank didn’t want to answer. He didn’t need to answer. Ryan still blew up, throwing his hands in the air because Frank had been unbelievable, “You’ve talked to your boss about us?” Ryan screamed at Frank, disgusted over the idea of their private lives being common knowledge for Gerard now.

“I haven’t told him shit,” Frank lied, “He asked me about overtime on Tuesday night. I told him why I couldn’t on Tuesday night and then he came out with that quote.”   
  
“Oh, so, what we do in our relationship is up for public discussion?” Ryan continued his tirade, livid at Frank, “You just talk to your boss of what, three days, about us? Did you talk to him about breaking up with me?”   
  
“What the fuck, Ry, no!”   
  
“I don’t believe you!”   
  
“Well, there's a fucking surprise,” Frank feigned shock, “‘Ryan doesn’t believe me. Ryan doesn’t believe that I’ve come to this conclusion all by myself because you have been a fucking nightmare to date.’”   
  
“Do you think it’s been easy dating you, too?” Ryan shot back, annoyed, “What with you and your insatiable sex drive. I swear you have a problem.”   
  
“Are you suggesting that I have a sex addiction?” Frank shot back, flabbergasted that Ryan could even suggest something like that. He knew he was normal. Maybe his drive was a little higher, but that was probably only because Ryan barely had a sex drive at all, “This coming from the person who thinks sex once a week, if that, is completely normal.”   
  
“That  _ is  _ normal.”   
  
“No, it’s not!” Frank exclaimed, “You have no interest in sex. It makes me wonder if you’re asexual.”   
  
“I like sex,” Ryan insisted, “I just don’t like it when I’m pressured into it.”   
  
“I have never pressured you-”   
  
“Bullshit,” Ryan snorted derisively, “Shall I list the times you’ve practically begged me to have sex with you?” Frank blushed, feeling ashamed of the fact that he was in a relationship with a person and still he had to beg for intimacy. It should never have been like that. Not that he had any other experience, but it just seemed logical. Be in a happy relationship, have a happy sex life, “You’re still the immature, horny teenager that I remember from high school.”   
  
“Having a sex drive is not a problem!” Frank snapped, “You’re the problem! You’re the reason that I’m breaking up with you.”   
  
“Oh, so, if I didn’t grow up and if I still straightened my hair and wore eyeliner then we’d still be together?” Ryan snorted out mockingly. Frank just stood there, completely bewildered that Ryan even went there with that. It was the stupidest thing he had said all evening. How did he think that saying something like that would make this situation any better? Frank just stood there, mouth hanging open in shock while he watched Ryan. This was why he was leaving him- Along with everything else, these were the rusted nails in the coffin.

“Not the point.”   
  
“I grew up and changed,” Ryan continued, folding his arms across his chest, “I wasn’t your little emo boyfriend anymore. You don’t want me as much because I’m not the same person that you had back then.” Fucking astounded, Frank could not believe that Ryan was saying this. After everything, it was like he was turning this onto Frank. Making this break up his fault when it really wasn’t.   
  
“Well, I can assure you that eyeliner is not going to fix this,” Frank told him, pacing the living room again.   
  
“So, this is it?” Ryan asked, watching Frank, “We’re just going to take a break and cool down?” He was holding onto hope. Ryan clung on, hoping that Frank would see some sort of sense and they could work through this.   
  
“No, Ryan,” Frank spoke, stopping in the middle of the sitting room, “This isn’t us taking a break. This is us breaking up. We’re done.”   
  
Ryan nodded at that, sniffing, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall now. It couldn’t be over, Frank couldn’t be leaving him. He was, but Ryan hoped that Frank would realize that he had made a mistake. Ryan had made a mistake and all would be forgiven. They would still be together because even after everything, Ryan still loved Frank. That wouldn’t change.   
  
“Ry,” Frank sighed when Ryan couldn’t hold it back anymore. He bit his bottom lip, trying to fight his emotions, but he just couldn’t when they all came spilling out, tears streaming down his cheeks. Ryan was heartbroken, “Please don’t cry. Y-You know what happens when you cry.” If Ryan started then he would start; the way Ryan cried, all sobbing and whimpering, it got to Frank; to the point that Frank could feel his eyes stinging already.

“Don’t.”

“R-Ryan, please, I’m s-sorry.” Frank apologies, voice wobbling already as he lost control of his emotions. Ryan was full-blown crying already, nose running and eyes streaming as Frank took a step towards him, “I’m so sorry it had to h-happen like this.”

“You c-can’t just eh-end us like this,” Ryan whimpered, hiding his face behind his ring-littered hands, “We- We’ve been together for s-so long. Frank, we c-can sort this out.”

“There is nothing to sort out,” He told him, trying to steady himself, “I said my part and I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Frank, I am not g-giving up on us j-just because you made your mind up,” Ryan sniffed, “We- We can get through this together. Frank, please. Sweetheart, please, I-”   
  
“Ryan, stop.”   
  
Ryan put his hands in his hair, shaking his head as he closed his eyes, that unique shade of denial-rider pink returning to his cheeks, “I won’t stop until we’re okay.”   
  
“I said stop it!” Frank snapped, unable to deal with Ryans pleading and begging. Frank knew that it was over, Ryan just had to realize that nothing he said, no amount of begging or pleading or reassuring that ‘everything would be different’, would change what had happened.

“I’m sorry, Ry,” Frank apologized again, wiping his eyes dry even though he was still crying. Ryan was full-blown sobbing now, “I j-just can’t do this anymore and…” Frank reached out a hand to Ryan, “Even if we did stay together, it still wouldn’t w-work out because we both want different things. You know that, Ry.”   
  
Ryan flinched away when Frank tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Scowling at Frank, he didn’t want his sympathy. Both of them were crying now. The break up had turned out just how Frank hadn’t wanted it to end. It was supposed to be easy, but Frank guessed that breaking up with someone who still claims to love you is never easy. Even after the accusations, this was never going to be easy. Ryan took a step away, walking away from Frank who was wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He sniffed, scowling ruefully as he shrugged on his coat.   
  
“What are you doing?” Frank asked, fighting through tears to see Ryan going for his car keys, “Ryan?” He didn’t answer, he didn’t even look back at Frank while he checked that he had his phone and wallet. Within seconds he was stuffing them into his jacket pockets, still ignoring Frank’s questions. He headed to the door, opening it, all the while he still ignored Frank and his tears.

A few seconds later the door was slammed shut and Ryan was gone, leaving Frank alone in the aftermath of what he had done. Frank stood in the living room, not moving a muscle. He heard the sound of Ryan's car being started, followed by the sound of tires moving on gravel. He was going God knows where. Frank took in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down so the tears would stop. He knew that he shouldn’t have been crying. He had come to the decision to break up with Ryan all by himself. But crying was inevitable and Frank knew that. Ryan cried, so, of course, he would also cry.

That wave of sobs was calming down when he had heard Ryan drive off, and now he was alone in their silent house. It was no longer a home because of what Frank had done to them. He took a moment to breathe; the tears were drying up now and Frank felt calmer. This had been a long time coming, he knew that. Ryan had just pushed him towards his decision a lot quicker. Frank sighed, finally moving from where he had been standing. He took a moment to assess what had happened, looking at everything that no longer mattered. Everything that the two of them had bought. It no longer was a home. That sheen had been wiped away now. All dulled down and old, no longer important. And the vase. Frank stopped, looking down at the broken shards of the item that Ryan had thrown at him. For a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes away from it; fixated on the small pieces. It was like it had set something off in his head, a fuse had been lit and the moment took over, he couldn’t shake it from his head. All of a sudden Frank felt weak, his own emotions spiraling faster than he could reel them in. 

He crumbled when his actions finally set in. Throwing away six years because of everything he couldn’t deal with anymore. He was relieved that he was out of it, but he still had loved Ryan. He still felt sad that it was over and that was why he collapsed to the floor, crying all over again, properly crying. Not just because Ryan had cried and set him off. Actually letting go of what he had done. knowing that he was alone now to ugly cry. He wiped snot away from his nose as he sat amongst the bits of potpourri that he threw, staring at the one thing that had set him off, bringing clarity and heartache all at the same time. The stupid vase. 

Frank sat there for God knows how long. Ryan never returned and all he could do was continue to cry. Continue to realize that this was it for him and it was over. Relief and pain. Despair and hope. It could only get better from now on, Frank just had to get through this, even though all he could do right now was cry amongst the remains of what they once had.

_ “Just hand in your notes and your press badge, and collect your week’s pay, Frank. We’re letting you go. And Ryan wants you to know he’s not sorry for spending the past two nights here.” Danielle replied with a sigh before hanging up. Frank looked at his phone as the dial tone beeped into his ear. He sighed, locking the device and chucking it beside him on the sofa when he brought his legs up against his chest, his toes curling slightly over the end of the cushion. _

That was where it all started. That was the moment Frank had now pinpointed where everything had gone downhill. Frank didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t going to, something inside him hadn’t snapped yet, hadn’t broken him enough to cry, yet again. He merely sat there, staring into space at the beige-colored wall ahead of him. It was as though it hasn’t sunken in yet. Even after the fight, the argument, the ways in which Frank tried to explain how he felt to Ryan. He could still remember Ryan’s face, the image burned into the back of his mind as they fought about something as juvenile as a job. Frank hadn’t even considered it properly before Ryan had told. Or the way Ryan had acted about Frank’s new employer. Frank felt as though he was well within his rights to be livid- Disappointed? But this was so much worse, things had spiraled way more than it ever had between them.

He could still see shards of porcelain from the vase that had almost hit him, a small crack in the wall where it had impacted beside his head. The entire house that had once been so happy and bright now seemed to hold its own dark and melancholy cloud above its roof. Frank got up, looking around at everything. At every piece of his life that he and Ryan had started together. It wasn’t like he and Ryan had lived separately before moving in together from their own apartments. They both moved in together from their parents’ houses and bought everything together.

The sofa was bought together, the TV set, their bed, every photo frame, every candle, and every pillow. Even the cups and plates. Frank wanted none of it, he couldn’t bear the thought of having to look at any of it, or at the house. He had to get away, he had to find someone to help him, someone who would understand, someone he could count on in times like this. And he knew exactly who he wanted. He reached over the back of the sofa and grabbed his phone, opening his contacts before scrolling right to where he wanted to be. He dialed Jamia’s number, pressing the phone to his ear as he prayed for her to answer, silently begging.

“Hey, you,” She answered cheerily, making Frank flinch to himself and his bottom lip quiver.

“Nez- I…” Frank began, the tears suddenly caught in his eyes, surprising him, “I need somewhere to crash.”

“How come? Trouble in paradise?” She asked and Frank let out a whimper, nodding despite being alone in the house.

“Y-Yeah…” Frank sniffed, “Ry and I… We..”

“What is it, Poptart?” Jamia asked and Frank let out a small sob, sliding down the wall in the living room as the tears spilled over and down his cheeks.

“I ended it wi-with Ryan. Or- Or he ended it with me. I-I don’t even know what happened. I said all the things but, he left...” Frank managed over barely a whisper, being met with silence.

“Why, Poptart?” She eventually asked and Frank shook his head.

“I just… Please can I stay with you? I don’t w-wanna stay here. I have n-no one else.”

“Of course.” Jamia said with a smile, “You come around whenever you want, Poptart. You know I’m home now on maternity leave.”

“Oh, yeah.” Frank sniffed, remembering that his best friend was about to pop, “I’ll pack a bag and see you later.”

Frank sighed, instantly feeling guilty. He had completely forgotten that Jamia was pregnant for the moment. He could still remember when she had told him. A week before he had found out about the bun in her oven. It was just after his birthday when Jamia had phoned him in complete hysterics, making him freak out at work and drop three huge files he had meant to be working on all over the floor before he had spent God knows how long picking up and refiling. He had shown up at her house, having begged for a half-day, to find the front door wide open and to see her sitting at the kitchen table. She was sitting there, her face red and swollen and her eyes still puffy.

She hadn’t spoken for ages as Frank sat watching her stare off into the distance before she finally spoke, telling Frank that her boyfriend had left. Jimmy had been her boyfriend for a little over a year now and they had even talked about moving in together. But that had come to an end when Jamia had come home early from work to find her black fauxhawk-haired boyfriend in bed with her blonde-haired BFF Chantal. She had told Frank how they had argued, how Jimmy had admitted he had been seeing Chantal for almost four months at the time.

Frank was furious, he was so angry that he was shaky, ready to lunge on the older guy when Jamia managed to calm Frank down, making sure to explain to him that if Frank went to jail for beating up Jimmy, that she would have no one to be there for her. It worked. For a week.

A week later was when Frank found out. He was busy rifling through her trash, looking for the bracelet that had slipped off of his wrist when he had thrown away the massive pizza box. He continued rifling, coming across the two positive tests. He pushed it aside as he found the bracelet he was looking for, a gift from Ryan for his birthday made out of leather with a steel engraved pumpkin on the front. He went over to Jamia, who was stirring her hot chocolate and held out his hand, the test in his palm. She looked down at it and up at him, her bottom lip quivering as tears welled up in her brown eyes. She jumped him, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug as she sobbed, knocking the test out of his hand, sending it skittering across the floor. Frank stood there, hugging and holding her, consoling her as she cried- not quite registering.

Frank had yet again felt fury rising up in his chest at the thought that Jimmy had left her in this state, but he had found out that Jimmy didn’t even know. Jamia had gone to tell him when she had found him in bed with Chantal and she had decided not to rain on his parade even more. And that made Frank even more upset, that Jamia wouldn’t want to tell Jimmy, wouldn’t want to make his living child a burden in his frivolity.

Frank wanted to kill him, he had never felt so much hatred for one person before. And he had persuaded Jamia to tell Jimmy. She did. It did nothing, Jimmy wasn’t interested in the slightest, breaking Jamia into smaller and smaller pieces that Frank had spent the past seven months fixing back into place as best he could.

And now the tables had turned. It was Frank who was having the relationship crisis, Frank who was close to breaking, Frank who needed a hand and a shoulder. And a bed. Frank pocketed his phone as he looked around, realizing that the sun was already coming up, it was Thursday morning and he hadn’t slept a wink, there was no way he would be able to sleep now. Or work.

Frank let out a groan at the thought of work and bit his lip, looking at the clock on the wall that was currently reading six-thirty. He pulled his phone out of his pocket again and began typing out a text for his new boss, biting on his lip. He froze in his tracks, reading over his text before he cleared it all, sighing as he pressed ‘dial’ and set his phone up to his ear, bringing his knees up to his chest.

“Frank, good morning,” Gerard answered almost immediately, sounding effectively awake.

“Hi, sir.” Frank tried to speak, his voice cracking embarrassingly, making him cringe hard as he withheld the urge to sigh, “Hope I didn’t interrupt.”

“Not at all, I just got home from a jog. How can I help you this fine morning?” Gerard asked with a heavy breath and Frank felt his body clench at the thought of telling Gerard what had happened.

“I-I don’t think I can make it into the office today,” Frank began, hearing his voice waver slightly and threaten to crack as he paused himself, tears blurring his vision, “I’m sorry- I know it’s bad to take off in the first month of working, but I-”

“Are you alright, boy?” Gerard asked, sounding the taddest concerned, the sounded inflection in his voice had Frank wanting to cry even more.

“I-” He didn’t know how to answer considering the fact that he definitely wasn’t alright, but this was also his boss on the phone and Frank couldn’t decide between lying and honesty, “Y-Yeah.”

“Are you lying to me?” Gerard asked simply and Frank shuddered quietly as he fiddled with a loose strand at the bottom of his shirt.

“I’m having personal problems that I need to sort out today. I-I would come in if I could, but…” He trailed off, unsure of how to tell Gerard that he most likely had to move out of his home of six years because his boyfriend had run out and he, Frank, had finally ended their relationship.

“Don’t worry. You aren’t productive at the office if you can’t concentrate on anything. Take today off and get yourself sorted. I’ll have Josh fill in for you- That’s what he’s there for, in any case.”

“Th-Thank you, sir…” Frank’s voice wobbled at how considerate Gerard was being with him, “I really appreciate it.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” Gerard said simply and Frank nodded to himself, “I have to go. Take care of yourself, boy.”

“I will, sir,” Frank muttered as Gerard hung up, leaving him in silence again. Frank stared up at the ceiling before he carefully made his way up the stairs and into their bedroom. Frank looked around the room, surveying, realizing that he would never sleep in it again, never be in it again. Everything seeming so final now.

He reached into the top of the wardrobe and pulled out a suitcase, packing in literally anything he could. He folded up his pants and his shirts and whatever else he could into his one and only suitcase. He went for his underwear in a drawer and froze, staring at a small box that was sitting there hidden in his socks. He had never seen it before and it certainly intrigued him as he slid a finger over the black velvet before opening it. He stared down at the simple platinum band in the box and felt every sinew in his body tense as tears welled up.

It must have been Ryan’s, it must have been for their anniversary that was coming up, whether it was the real deal or just a token of affection, Frank didn’t know. Although, he did know now that he was feeling sick. He closed the box, setting it down on the top of the chest of drawers before he piled his socks and underwear into his suitcase. He stopped as the tears dissipated for the thousandth time and looked back behind him over his shoulder at the ring, frowning.

If it were a surprise for him from Ryan, what was it doing in his underwear drawer? Unless… Frank straightened up and looked at it, his mind running with possibilities. Ryan could have put it in the wrong drawer, Ryan could have gotten it for Frank to give to him as a hint. Or, Ryan could have put it there before their argument as a guilt trip, a jab at Frank to add to the mush-fest that had awaited him at his office that Wednesday. Either thought made Frank angrier than he was before, and he threw the box across the room, sending it flying into the bathroom, hitting the side of the cabinet and skittering out of sight. He stuffed his shoes into the suitcase on top of his clothing with more violence than necessary.

He looked at what was left of his clothing that wouldn’t fit into his overstuffed suitcase and wandered back to the wardrobe, grabbing the old duffel bag he had used in high school for his gym kit. He set it on the bed and shoved whatever else he could into the bag, filling every single crevice before zipping it shut with some difficulty. He lay his new suit and the other empty garment bag on top of his bag- Having not even had the energy to change from his work clothes yet- Scowling in annoyance at them before he lay a hand on one of them, feeling an instant shade of guilt over his stomach.

He looked around as he took off his bracelet from Ryan and chucked it on the bed, sliding on his watch that had sat on his bedside table. Frank grabbed his laptop bag and checked everything in it before setting it with his stuff, putting his phone charger in the front pocket. He stared at the photo of him and Ryan in high school, looking at the giddy faces of the two younger boys. 

He looked at Ryan with his straightened brown hair and thick black eyeliner, and he looked at himself with his hideous orange mohawk. He looked away, grabbing the photo in his hands before he threw it with every last bit of his energy. He sunk to the floor in a flurry of sobs as the picture frame hit the wall and splintered. He gripped his hair as he cried, sliding off of the bed that he completely missed, landing on his ass with his legs splayed and bent awkwardly. The tears ran in floods down his cheeks, burning his already tear-stained cheeks and soaking into his black shirt. He whimpered brokenly as his head lolled back on his shoulders, resting on the bed as he cried, his heart aching and seemingly in a thousand pieces in his chest, mimicking the shrapnel and debris that lay around him.


	20. But it Really Does Look Like ‘Anal’

“Oh, my God, you look like shit.” Jamia greeted as she waddled out of her house, her stomach protruding a lot more than Frank had remembered. He looked at her in her comfy maternity leggings and a pink polka-dot tunic top that matched the perennial blush to her cheeks. Frank sniffed, smiling weakly as he cradled her face in his hands before hugging her as tightly as he deemed suitable- And as tightly as he could with such a big preggo-belly between them.

“That’s funny because I feel like Hell,” Frank commented, his voice rough and raw from his pathetic cry-fest earlier.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” She tried to grab one of Frank’s bags when he swatted her hand away with a scowl, “Oh, c’mon, I’m pregnant, not disabled. Let me help.”

“They’re heavy.” 

“So is this kid.” She scoffed, “Now give.”

Frank looked at her insistent face with a sigh, “I don’t want you to get hurt carrying my underwear or something.”   


“Give me the damn bag.” She scowled, taking a bag from him with a huff as she turned and walked back to her house. Frank grabbed his suitcase and his duffel before he closed the car door with his hip. He walked into the house with a huff, setting his bags down where Jamia had set his other bag in the front hallway. He looked around, realizing that in the few months that he hadn’t seen her, the house hadn’t changed at all. There was still a homely feel to everything, there were still dog-related knick-knacks and paintings everywhere and a lot of things were different shades of purple- Her favorite color.

“How are you, Poptart?” She asked as she carefully lowered herself down onto the sofa, patting a spot next to her.

“Yeah…” Frank muttered softly as he sat beside her, kicking his shoes off carefully, stretching his toes, “I’ve been better, Nez.”

“What’s happened?” She frowned, tucking a piece of straightened black hair behind her ear as Frank scooted around. He lay his head down on her lap, looking up at her for a moment before he closed his eyes.

“Ryan and I- We- We broke…” His voice cracked heavily at the end, cutting off his sentence as he felt his eyes sting.

“Why? I thought you guys would be together forever.” Jamia sounded genuinely concerned as Frank flinched.

“He- He went off the deep end, Nez.” Frank’s breath came out wobbly, “He got me fired from my job at the paper because he told his parents I got a job opportunity.”

“With?”

“Working as Congressman Way’s assistant.” Frank blushed slightly, “Which I accepted.”

“So, you work for that ginger hunk of a Greek God?” Jamia asked and Frank nodded, trying not to smile at her choice of words, “You lucky bitch.”

“He’s…” Frank opened his eyes, “Eccentric.”

“And gorgeous.” She sighed.

“And married.” Frank snorted, “Happily.”

“Bummer.” She scoffed, “So, what happened? He got you fired from the paper and then?”

“Then he just… He got so paranoid that there was something going on with Gerard and I. He fucking showed up at my office yesterday to check him out and decorated my desk with the soppiest shit. I just- It was so embarrassing and Gerard saw right through it. I've only been there for three days, Nez.”

“That doesn’t sound like Ryan.” She frowned, “What in the fuck?”

“I know…” Frank trailed off, the tears filling his eyes yet again, blurring his vision completely, “And he was insistent that Gerard and I were fucking on the side just because Gerard bought me two suits for work.”

“Why did he buy you two suits?”

“Because I didn’t have anything and I kept showing up in Ryan’s clothing. It was…”

“I can imagine.” She giggled, “But I mean… The man bought you clothes, does that automatically mean you get to rail him?”

“Not at all.” Frank snorted, “That’s what I was saying. But it doesn’t matter how many times I denied it, Ryan wouldn’t believe me. And- And…” Frank felt the tears run down from his eyes and into his hair, “We had a fight and…”

“He left?” Jamia asked and Frank merely nodded, letting out a sob as he curled up on his side, his face pressed against her stomach, “Oh, Frankie…”

“I-I’m sorry.” He cried brokenly, curling up even tighter as his chest ached.

“If- If you cry then… Then I’m gonna cry and…” Jamia’s voice wobbled, “You can’t cry in front of a pregnant woman.”

“Shit, I-” Frank wiped his eyes, sniffing slightly, “Sorry.” He looked at Jamia to see the tears on her eyes and he couldn’t help but smile at her, “Sorry, Nez.”

“Ass.”

“So, this is 'the single life', huh…?” Frank sighed as he sat up, resting his hand on the couch to keep himself up.

“Unfortunately…” She rolled her eyes, “Welcome.”

“Well, I guess my sex life is drying out for now,” He bit his lip, “Although, it feels pretty much the same as when I was with Ryan, to be honest.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” Jamia snorted and Frank eyed her, his face all but dripping with sarcasm, “What?”

“Nez… You don’t understand how bad it got. We would only have sex on Tuesday and only on my side of the bed and only missionary. I tried to mix it up and I ended up sleeping on the sofa that night.”

“At least you… I mean-” She stopped, “Is that all sex or just full anal?”

“I got my first blowjob out of him, after a year, on Sunday.” Frank offered and Jamia’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“A year?”

“A year.” Frank nodded, “Three-hundred and sixty-fucking-five.”

“Christ… What crawled in his ass and died?” Jamia rolled her eyes.

“Certainly wasn’t me. Unless it’s Tuesday.” Frank mocked, hearing her snort.

“You’re not alone.” She added, “I’m seven months pregnant and I haven’t had sex since I found out.”

“Oh, my God.” Frank whispered, “You poor girl.”

“Yeah, feel sympathy for me, Poptart.”

“It’ll be, like, seven months for me until I get laid again.” He sighed, “Maybe I should invest in a hooker.”

“Or a dildo.” She snickered and Frank raised an eyebrow at the idea, pondering on it as he lay his head on her shoulder, “Whatever you fancy.”

“Y’know…” Frank trailed off, “If I weren’t a complete and utter homo, I’d totally be into you.”

It wasn't a lie at all. Jamia and he were almost exactly the same people on the inside. They liked the same things, had the same views, and even enjoyed the same music. She liked to joke about the fact that they were even the same height. Frank adored his best friend, her and Ryan being the only two people he kept in contact with after high school. She was the one who convinced him to ask Ryan out in the first place, she was the one who dressed him for their first date and she was the one who had to sneak into Walmart and buy him condoms when he was too afraid to be judged by a rogue cashier. Sure, in high school, she was a year below him but it never mattered.

She snorted, rolling her eyes, “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” Frank nodded, “You’re adorable but y’know…”

“I don’t have a penis.” Jamia nodded knowingly, “So unfortunate.”

“Still love you.” He leaned in, giving her a chaste kiss to the lips before he pulled away, “Despite the hemorrhoids.”

“Oh, way to ruin the moment.” She scoffed as he kissed her cheek.

“I’m the King of ruining moments.” He said as he sat up and looked at his stuff, “I really should unpack.”

As depressing as it seemed, Frank felt much better. He was still down, which was completely expected after what had transpired. After ending his six-year-long relationship with Ryan, Frank felt somewhat numb. He had gotten most of his crying done in the small hours of the morning after Ryan had left. He had sobbed his eyes out with Jamia, too. Only an hour ago was when he had shown up at her door and he had barely been in her house for fifteen minutes before he broke down. Sure, he had a moment when he began the process of packing up his possessions, getting his clothes into his suitcase, and packing up anything that was his, including a good portion of the shelves full of DVDs. Anything that was his, he took. Anything that they had bought together for the house, it stayed. Frank didn’t want any of that; he didn’t want a reminder of what he had done.

Frank was relieved that it was over. He wondered if, now that a day had passed, he would feel any sort of regret towards his decision. Had he made the wrong choice leaving Ryan? Frank waited, checking himself every now and again because what if he did start to regret? What if he did start to think that they could sort it out and Ryan could take him back? He didn’t want that. The bullshit Ryan had concocted in his head about his new boss had Frank stunned. Maybe the suits had pushed Ryan towards that conclusion, but he had totally got the wrong end of the stick. The suits that Frank had on hangers right at that moment as he opened the wardrobe in Jamia’s spare bedroom and hung them up carefully.

Hell, if Ryan had been so sure that Gerard was grooming him, Frank could’ve said the same thing about Ryan attempting to train him and get him used to what he wanted. Less sex, regimented sex when it was actually on the cards, the same routines day in day out. Frank just didn’t fall into it, he couldn’t be constrained, and that had been the main problem. It just all came to a head so quickly.

“You okay there, Poptart?” Jamia asked, catching Frank by surprise. She stood in the doorway of his new bedroom, arms folded across her chest, over her bump. She raised an eyebrow, watching him try to move his suitcase from where he had set it down after he had lugged it upstairs, “Wanna hand?”

“I’m good,” Frank reassured her with a huff, moving his bag of clothes closer to the dresser, unzipping it to begin unpacking. All Frank cared about was the fact that he was moving on and the pain in his chest was somewhat numbed down to a low buzz. 

“You sure?” Jamia asked again, stepping into the bedroom to join Frank, “You look like you could do with a hand. I don’t mind helping. All this nesting shit does have its benefits. I’ve rearranged my stuff a fucking ton lately.”

“Honestly-” Frank started, wanting Jamia to chill and rest because she didn’t need to help him while she was on her maternity leave. But he knew she was a persistent person who wouldn’t take 'no' for an answer. She bent down, grabbing some of his shirts before opening a drawer to put them in. He sighed, “Fine. I guess the help would be nice.”

“You don’t have to be like this, you know,” Jamia chuckled softly at him, placing his shirts in the drawer before going to get some more out of the suitcase, “I offered to help you, and I’m not just talking about unpacking. I’m actually happy that you are here.”

Frank raised an eyebrow, “Really?” 

“It’s nice to have some company in this house again,” She explained, refolding one of Frank's shirts because it was clear that he had just stuffed it into the suitcase as quickly as possible, “It’s been kinda lonely, just me and the Spawn.”

“Well, I’m grateful that you took me in, honestly.” Frank smiled at her, taking the shirt she was folding from her hands. Frank went to say something else to her about how grateful he was that she had taken him in, but he spotted something as Jamia started to pack more of his clothes into the chest of drawers. Jamia had something on her wrist that caught Frank's eye, making him stop her, taking hold of her wrist to have a closer inspection.

“I remember this. I was there when you got it. I never got to see it healed.” Frank smiled. 

“Yeah, a few weeks before I found out I was pregnant, just after she died,” Jamia nodded, pulling her wrist free from Frank’s hand, “It got a small infection ‘cause of the red ink in the heart. I didn’t know I had a nickel allergy.”

“I’m so proud you got it, but-,” 

“What? What is it? You’ve seen it since then.” She looked down at her arm and back up at Frank, who had rolled his lips into his mouth to silence himself.

“I remember now.” Frank whispered, “Every time Ryan and I saw you, I kept wanting to make a comment but he stopped me.”

“A comment on what?” She scowled, “Why did Ryan stop you?”

“Mia… I love you. I love you so much but,” Frank held her wrist and examined the scrawl of a name on her wrist, “It still looks like ‘anal’.”

“It does not!” She yelped indignantly, ripping her wrist from his grip to look at it, shielding the ink from his view with her hand. She spied it, “It doesn’t…”

“Fuck off, it doesn’t!” She put her wrist behind her, “It doesn’t…”

Frank stood there with his hands on his hips, his lips pursed as he tried to hide the enormous grin that threatened to spread on his face. She looked down at her wrist and he grabbed it again, looking at the cursive writing that spelled out a part of her grandmother’s name. The three little letters that read ‘Ana’ and a small flourish into a heart at the end all seemed so innocent unless you had the same mind as Frank Iero.

“No wonder Ryan stopped you.” She folded her arms, “You’re fucking rude, Iero.”

“Anyone who sees that now might think that you like getting butt-rammed.” Frank laughed, unable to stop himself; this shit was just too good. Jamia continued to pout, letting out a huff before she stormed out of the bedroom, leaving Frank smirking in her wake. 

“Thanks for cheering me up, Nez!”

“Eat shit and die, fuckhead!”

After all of that, Frank finished sorting through his clothes alone, having put them most of them away. He was grateful that Jamia had helped, but doing the rest of it himself, he felt a little proud of actually taking this step. He took a second to look around at where he was and how this was his new life. Shacking up with his pregnant best friend. As much as he was proud, he honestly didn’t know what he was going to do now. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay here forever, but at least it was a start and at least Frank knew that Jamia would give him time to figure out what he was going to do with himself. He also knew he couldn’t take too long to figure it out because eventually there would be a baby in the house, too. He hadn’t ever really been around babies too much but he knew it consisted of screaming, crying, shitting, and generally keeping him up at night. He didn’t mind, though. If anything, he would be happier with that than spending any longer with Ryan. 

He still couldn’t help but wonder if he really would have gone all the way with Ryan? Would he have done what Ryan wanted him to do? Would he get down on one knee, proposing to him, being his husband for as long as they both shall live? Highly unlikely, even if they were still together. That kind of commitment terrified Frank and the idea of being with someone like Ryan forever, Frank probably would have blown his brains out. There was no way in Hell he would have been able to put up with that until they were old and grey together. No way. This was for the best and Frank knew it, no matter how much it sucked right now.

He sighed, taking another moment to realize that he suddenly felt very alone for the first time in over six years, he actually felt really  _ alone _ . He couldn’t deny that there had been moments when he was with Ryan, where he felt the same thing. It was usually when Ryan refused sex for the umpteenth time, but that was different. That was like a form of rejection, like he wasn’t good enough. This, however, was the feeling realization that you have no one to kiss you and tell you that you’re loved. It had barely been twenty-four hours since he told Ryan that he was leaving him. It was so little, and yet it felt like so much time had passed since then. 

It was only three in the afternoon. The pair had been chatting away earlier, talking on the sofa whilst Jamia turned on the TV in an attempt to give Frank some distraction. They always bonded over trashy sitcoms but it hadn’t really worked. He didn’t exactly want to be living out of boxes and bags so when Jamia had dozed off for her afternoon nap, Frank had snuck off to finish unpacking his stuff. Frank wondered if Jamia would want to keep him company, he considered going downstairs to see if Jamia was awake again, but if she wasn’t then he didn’t want to disturb her. There was no harm in checking at least, so Frank left his new bedroom, walking down the stairs to find Jamia exactly where he had left her, sleeping so peacefully. She had one hand on her protruding stomach, snoring softly. He chuckled as he grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa, laying it over Jamia to keep her warm. Sighing contently, Jamia didn’t wake when she shifted, trying to find a comfy position. Frank left her to it, smiling at her, feeling so lucky to have a friend like her. 

Frank turned to walk quietly out of the front room, padding softly across the carpet towards the stairs. He was so close to the stairs when all of a sudden his phone in his jeans pocket buzzed, vibrating until it started to sound out. The sounds of ‘Twisted Transistor’ jarred through the air and he yelped in fright, fumbling with the device to silence it before he checked to see who would be calling him. If it was Ryan then there was no way, in oversized Hell, that he was going to answer. The call could go to voicemail and whatever he had to say would stay there until it was automatically deleted a month later. It wasn’t Ryan. It was Gerard. Frank had been so grateful that Gerard had given him the day off so he could move out of his ex's house, but now, well, Frank couldn’t ignore his own boss.

“Sir, hi,” Frank answered quickly and quietly, making his way up the stairs as quickly as he could, huffing as he jogged into his room. He closed the door behind him with a breathy sigh, “Hi. I’m here, sorry.”

“Am I interrupting you at the moment?” Gerard asked curiously, “Is now a bad time?”   
  
“No, no,” Frank told him as he sat down on the bed, unfastening his jeans with one hand as he eyed his pajama pants, contemplating an afternoon nap, “Now is a good time.”   
  
“Good,” Gerard spoke. His voice brought everything back into the forefront of Frank’s mind and he couldn’t help but cringe. How could Ryan have been so stupid to think that they were having sex? Yes, Gerard may have been attractive in person and when he was talking on the phone he sounded ethereal, but there was nothing going on. Frank felt somewhat awkward, listening to his as he spoke, “I just wanted to double-check if you were planning on coming to work tomorrow. I know you said you were having personal problems so, I just need to know if I’m going to have you or if I’m going to need to keep Josh in your place for the time being.”

“No, you’ve got me tomorrow,” Frank got up, shimmying his jeans down to his ankles. As much as the day off had been good for him because he had been able to move, he lacked any sort of distraction, and he knew that getting back into a routine would be good for him. The perfect distraction because he had to stay focused on  _ something _ , he couldn’t wallow away at his desk, “I got everything sorted out today. I will be in at eight tomorrow, sir.”

“Are you sure?” Gerard queried, “If you come in tomorrow, I need you working. I need you focused, and I don’t want to have to micromanage you, boy. If you need another day then you can take it. I would rather that than have to send you home.”

Frank didn’t want to anger his boss, especially seeing as he had already taken a day off in his first week of working for Mr. Way. Frank knew that he would be focused, he wouldn’t be distracted so there was no way that Gerard would be annoyed at him tomorrow. He bit on a hangnail near his thumb, “Honestly, sir, I think coming back to work will help me a lot. I promise I won’t lose focus. I can assure you that I don’t need another day off, sir.”

“Alright then,” Gerard sounded convinced, “I will see you bright and early tomorrow then, boy?” 

“Eight o'clock,” Frank spoke, “Bright and early, sir.”

“Well, you better get your rest tonight,” Gerard stated firmly and Frank frowned at the inflection in his voice, the persuasive lilt to his voice. Something about the way Gerard spoke to him, it wasn’t so much an ‘order’, but something that made Frank tense up involuntarily. A natural reaction that he couldn’t explain. He nodded, keeping the whimper firmly wedged down in his chest as Gerard spoke again, “I need you on the ball tomorrow, not half asleep at your desk, understand?”   
  
“Yes, sir,” Frank agreed as he lay back on his bed, a hand tucked under his head as he lay on his pillow, crossing one foot over the other, “I’ll see you in the morning.”   
  
The call ended and Frank sighed, tossing his phone down beside him, staring up at the ceiling as a frown collected itself between his brows. Running his hands over his face, Frank had to admit that after Gerard brought up the fact that he needed to sleep, he felt exhausted. It was as though Gerard had affected him on a subliminal level. And it was also due to the fact that he hadn’t slept in over thirty hours.

Frank climbed into bed, worming himself down under the covers until he found that comfy spot on his side with one leg up and the other draped over. Frank started to doze, purposefully slowing his breathing down as he counted colors in his head to shut his body down enough to sleep, wrapped up under the comforter, trying to keep his mind off the one thing that was going to bring him down.

_ “Ha- Ah! Fuck-” Frank gasped out, mewling as he arched his breath, his hands scrambling against the sheets. He cried out, moaning breathily as the sounds of skin on skin filled the room around him, infiltrating his ears, swirling around in his skull to make his brain melt. The stretch in his ass and the heavy fill that slid in and out of his body felt so alien, so anew. He had never experienced anything like this before. He cried out, whining as he reached out ahead of him, gripping a pillow as he sunk his teeth into it when an angled thrust into his body had a sharp burst of pleasure score through his veins.  _

_ His thighs trembled, his dick ached, his heart raced all at their own pace. He wanted so badly to look behind him at whoever was fucking into him with a pace so exquisite that he thought he could sob. A hand ran over his side before nails dug into his hipbone, sending a sharp tendril of pain along his nerves. He yelped, tugging at his hair, feeling the blunt stretch of the thick length inside of him.  _

_ He reached a shaky hand underneath him, wrapping his fingers around his previously untouched dick. The waves of pleasure shot through him and had him jerk back, igniting a fire in his belly as he rocked himself furiously on whoever was fucking him. A hand curled into his brown-and-blonde fringe, hoisting him back with a strength he hadn’t anticipated. He yelped at the motion, melting into the ache, letting himself be pulled up into the warmth of a chest.  _

_ He shuddered at the constant pressure against his prostate, whimpering as he opened his eyes to glance to his right. The orange hair didn’t surprise him, it felt so familiar. The warm breath over his ear and lips on his neck sent a flurried torrent of goosebumps over his alight skin. He keened in the back of his throat, the hand in his hair still keeping his head back when another perfectly poised finger stroked a deliberate line down his throat. He leaned in with a fervent hunger, kissing the pouted lips for which he unknowingly had been yearning. The kiss sent him soaring for a fleeting second until he was pulled back. He stared into the darkened hazel eyes that he saw every day but, here and now, they were so different. The hunger so apparent, the need unquelled, the pleasure turning them almost molten. It could turn anyone into a puddle and yet, Frank only felt unbridled want charging through his veins. _

_ No words were spoken between them, none felt necessary in that moment. Only the shared gaze that seemed to slow everything else around them. Frank opened his mouth as though on instinct, sucking on the finger that had inquisitively run over the top of his teeth. He was pushed down again, his head shoved into the pillow in which he had previously found solace. The pace was brutal all over again, unyielding, and every stroke pushed him towards his release. It was so close he could taste it, so sweet and so bitter at the same time, so unkempt and wild like a stallion through a thick prairie. A hand came down to arch his back, even more, fingers splayed to spread him out over the bed and expose him. He couldn’t bite back the sounds that tumbled from his lips, nor did he want to keep them from the man that knew exactly how to elicit them.  _

Frank woke with a start, yelping as he sat bolt upright in bed as soon. He put a hand to his clammy forehead, gasping, trying to breathe evenly. Was that really…? Frank didn't want to think about it even though the dream was still crystal clear in his head. It was fizzling out now, the vivid dream, but he could remember the hot breath on his ear, the startlingly dark edge to those familiar hazel eyes, and the gracefully sturdy hands that gripped him. Was he really sweating that much? Frank winced while he wiped damp hair away from his forehead. His whole face was covered in a light sheen of sweat and he felt out of breath as though he had just run the mile. He found his phone in the sheets, screwing his eyes partially shut when he unlocked it to check the time. It had just hit four in the morning and it was far too early to even consider getting up. He groaned, flopping down on the bed, back amongst the sheets that had somehow got tangled around his legs. That was the reason he was sweating; he had been overheating, not sweating because he had dreamed about having sex with his boss.

Frank wished that he could say that he hadn't, but he knew that he had been subconsciously vacillating over his boss gutting him from behind. Frank felt like he was fucked, and not in the same way that he had previously been in his dream. The kind of fucked that was bad because in four hours he was going to be face-to-face with the person, in his head, had been balls deep inside him. He knew that his boss was a good looking man, he would give him that. Mr. Way was a sharp dresser with a look that made his stomach do the weird churning thing. It had happened the first time he met Gerard, it had happened when he listened to the recording from the interview, and Frank had gotten to a point where he had to ignore it. Ignoring was better because he had no idea what it meant and when he was in a committed relationship with Ryan, he had chosen not to dig deeper into the meaning of the incessant churn low in his gut.

Frank cringed at the memory of the dream, screwing his eyes shut in the darkness, rubbing his hands over his face. There was no rhyme or reason as to why his dream had started so suddenly. He could barely remember the lead up to something so sordid and it was as though his brain had been channel surfing and had landed on that specific dream halfway through.

This was all Ryan's fault and Frank was more than happy to point the finger at the difficult ex who had suddenly been so belligerent and insecure. He had brought this on. Of course Frank was happy to admit that Gerard was attractive, but he was married and he and his wife worked together. Hell, they all worked together. It was just hard to grasp onto that when Frank was lying under the duvet with very early morning wood that would not go away.

This dream had meant nothing because Frank was on the back end of a break-up. Frank felt like dying with embarrassment over this. How in the world was he going to be able to look Gerard in the eyes in less than four hours? He knew that he wasn’t going to be able to look at him without turning a similar shade of red that was usually seen on a tomato or beet. He had woken up to find out that his dick had woken up at the same time, aching under the sheets. Frank knew that he couldn’t breathe a word about any of this. Nothing about the dream or the morning wood that wasn’t going away. And definitely not about the way that, when he thought about Gerard in that split second, his mind would go hazy and his stomach would twist and knot up with a cacophony of butterflies

Frank knew he wasn’t falling for his boss; he couldn’t be. This was all to do with Ryan. It had to be. It wasn’t because Frank found Gerard insanely attractive, it wasn’t because Gerard did something to him when he called him ‘boy’. It had nothing to do with the fact that, when Gerard even looked at him in the office, Frank would just begin to melt on the inside. He wasn’t falling for him, that just seemed so absurd. Frank knew he wasn’t the kind of guy who would just hopelessly fall for someone who wasn’t attainable. Was he?


	21. I Don't Think That's in My Paygrade

_ A month later _

Frank examined himself in the reflection of the front glass doors of his office building, looking at his outfit, biting on his lip. He had been informed yesterday that the office was now implementing a 'Casual Fridays' thing to which Frank was grateful. But he  _ still _ didn’t feel comfortable going to work in his Metallica t-shirt and his ripped jeans. He had decided to rope Jamia in on that Friday morning and get her to help him out and, so far, he was impressed with her handiwork. Frank looked down at his black boots, his tight black jeans, and his white button-up that was tucked in with the sleeves rolled up to boot. She had topped the entire thing off with a pair of black pinstripe suspenders slung over his shoulders. He tugged at his fringe, fixing it up a bit as it stuck out from under the black beanie that Jamia had popped on his head. His reflection was dimmed behind the black sunglasses, but he hoped he didn't look like shit. 

He sucked in a breath, clutching his work satchel in one hand and a tall coffee in the other. He looked down at the coffee for a moment and pushed the front doors open, walking in rather confidently despite it being a total façade. He smiled at Hayley politely before walking into the offices, setting his satchel down on his work chair along with his glasses. He strode into Gerard’s office, his heart suddenly racing a mile a minute in his chest.

Over the past month, Frank had come to realize his tiny spark of giddiness had turned into a disgusting, fully-fledged crush on his boss. Every time he caught sight of Gerard, his heart would pick up, a static would rush in his ears and his one leg would start to shake as the other remained stock-still. He clenched the coffee cup in his hand as he stood unawares in the doorway of Gerard’s office, looking him over. His boss was on the phone, frowning as he listened to whoever was on the line. He was dressed in a plain and semi-unbuttoned black shirt with the sleeves up, his hair more tousled than usual. Frank couldn’t see the rest of the outfit but he had no doubt it was absolutely gorgeous.

“Oh, non c’est parfait, monsieur Durand.” Gerard smiled as he nodded, “Je vois suis vraiment reconnaissant don généreux.”

[“Oh, no. That’s perfect, Mr. Durand.”] [“I really appreciate your generous donation.”]

Frank stared at Gerard for a moment, not able to comprehend what was actually happening, that somehow- Much to Frank’s chagrin- Gerard had now become infinitesimally more attractive. He was speaking another language, a language Frank figured was French, and from the way it merely rolled off his tongue, Frank knew that Gerard was almost fluent. He stepped slightly further into the office and pursed his lips as he stood there awkwardly, waiting for Gerard to notice him. Which the latter immediately did, giving Frank a once over, gesturing with his finger for Frank to come over.

“J’attendre ton appel demain, Monsieur Durand.” He smiled, nodding as he ran a poised hand through his fiery hair, “Pas grave, oui. Je comprend. Merci encore. Au revoir et amuse-toi bein voyage à Vale.” Gerard hung up the phone then, steepling his fingers as he looked at Frank once more. Gerard’s eyes taking a slow and timely rake over Frank’s body before an eyebrow rose.

[“I await your call tomorrow, Mr. Durand.”] [“Okay, yes. I understand. And thank you again. Goodbye and enjoy your trip to Vale.”]

“What?” Frank looked down at himself and up again, “Is it alright?”

“Now why couldn’t you have come to work like this from the interim?” Gerard pressed his lips against his fingers as he looked Frank up and down, “Very smart.”

“I-” Frank felt his cheeks go bright pink, “This wasn’t my doing. I wish it was.”

“Who, then?”

“Jamia.” Frank admitted, smiling slightly, “I wanted to come to work in my jeans and a t-shirt but she wouldn’t hear it.”

“Well, she cleans you up nicely. I give her the most courteous of ‘props’.” Gerard smiled jokingly and looked at Frank’s face, frowning for a millisecond, “And that?”

“What?” 

“Your eyes,” Gerard replied simply and Frank internally cursed. He remembered now that he had woken up this morning in a not so great mood and had himself a not-so-small cry after Jamia had gotten him dressed for work. It shouldn’t have upset him but the day, in particular, would have marked another whole month in he and Ryan’s relationship, a whole month closer to their seven-year anniversary.

Frank was lucky enough to have checked his reflection to see just how red his eyes were, how puffy and blotchy his skin was. He had grabbed Jamia’s eyeliner from the drawer and lined his eyes as he used to in high school, smudging it slightly to cover the worst blotches. But he didn’t consider that perhaps it may be a step too far into the 'casual' part of casual Fridays.

“Oh- I- uh…” Frank went slightly more pink as he looked down at the floor, “I kind of…”

“Look at me, boy,” Gerard ordered calmly and Frank obeyed, looking up at Gerard as he bit his lip. Being under his boss’s scrutinizing eye was both nerve-wracking and heart-killing in the best and worst ways, “It looks good.”

Frank was dumbfounded, “Wh-?”

“It does.” Gerard nodded, “Suits you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Frank smiled before he walked up to Gerard, his arm outstretched with the coffee still in his hand, “I got this for you, sir.”

“This is becoming a habit for you.” Gerard eyed the latte, “Don’t think I don’t notice…”

Frank’s entire soul and internal organs stopped as Gerard uttered the words. Had Frank’s work crush been that obvious? Had he been so transparent that Gerard had caught on already? Frank cursed himself internally, wishing that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.

“Sir, I-I can explain…” Frank tried to calm the raging heartbeat that was moshing against his poor ribs, his hand on his chest just in case it plummeted to the floor.

“Bringing me a coffee every day before work for an entire month and yet you still make it on time. How?”

“I-I, uh…” Frank cleared his throat, a wave of relief hitting him harder than a weed-buzz would have years before, “I get- I get up earlier.”

“Just to get my coffee?” Gerard raised an eyebrow, “You do know your probationary period ended over two weeks ago, boy. You have no need to kiss my ass anymore, you’re my assistant now.”

“I-” Frank went beet red, his cheeks flaming more than he was at the mental image Gerard had so neatly placed in his mind, “I just… Doing my job.”

“Well done, boy.” Gerard smiled as he took the cup from Frank, their hands brushing in a featherlight embrace that still drove a shudder up Frank’s spine and made his left leg want to give in.

“It- It’s nothing.” Frank waved a hand, smiling as Gerard took a contented sip, “Sir?”

“Oui, mon garçon?” Gerard asked, stopping Frank in his tracks at the sudden change in language, throwing him off track.

["Yes, my boy?”]

“I-...” Frank wracked his brain as he tried to figure out what he had wanted to say.

“Eh bein, Frank?” Gerard smiled, taking another sip, his eyes alight with amusement.

[“Well, Frank?”]

“I-I didn’t know you spoke French.” Frank managed, his stomach in an intense knot.

“C'est ma deuxième langue.” Gerard replied and Frank frowned, “My second language.”

“Wow…” Frank muttered, “All I know is English and a few phrases in Klingon.” Frank looked up with wide eyes when he realized he had said that aloud, the blush now in his ears, “I-”

“Klingon, you say?” Gerard tilted his head to the side, “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever need to ask Chancellor Gorkon for a grant.”

Frank stared at Gerard for ages, his eyes widened with genuine surprise, “You know Star Trek.”

“Let’s keep it our secret.” Gerard smiled, “Now, I need you to-” Gerard was cut off by the sudden and not-so-quiet ringing of Korn coming from Frank’s pocket, the sudden and unnecessary ‘Freak on a Leash’ made them both jump. Frank reached into his pocket, going to switch it off when he saw the caller ID. He looked at Gerard with an apologetic glance, the latter waving him off with a smile.

“Nez?” Frank frowned, “I’m at work…”

“Frank,” She sounded terrified, “Frank, it- It’s happening.”

“What?!” Frank almost yelled, putting his hand on his mouth when he realized how loud he had yelled, “What?”

“I- My water broke.” Jamia took in a breath and Frank felt his stomach drop, “Y-You gotta come home. It was fucking disgusting.”

“Shit.” Frank put a hand to his forehead, “Okay. I’ll be there now okay. Just deep breaths, okay?”

He hung up, turning to hop into Gerard’s office, startling his boss slightly as he panted, “Frank?”

“Sir, I-I have to… Jamia’s… Labor and- And babies and…” He put his hand to his chest as it sunk in, “Month early, but…”

“Well, go on, the child isn’t going to wait for you.” Gerard smiled, waving him off as Frank turned, running into his office to grab his stuff before he vaulted out of the building and to his car. Frank pulled his keys out of his bag, fumbling shakily before dropping them between his feet. He cursed, picking them up as he stuck the key in the door and unlocked it, throwing his stuff aside. He took a second, taking in a breath before he started the car, trying to calm himself down inside, the prospect of a baby hadn’t fully hit him yet. Nor had it hit him that it would be coming out his best friend’s vagina.

~

“See?” Frank reassured as he helped Jamia into the hospital, her bag of necessities slung over his shoulder as he all but herded her through the door, his one arm around her with the other outstretched as she squeezed his hand, “We made it in time. No baby, yet.”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up. Shut.” She yelped, cringing at what was probably a small contraction. Frank pursed his lips as he steered her to the counter, ignoring the small spark of panic in the back of his mind.

“We have a- uh… A code red situation here.” Frank told the assisting nurse at the desk, “She’s, uh…”

“Frank, for fuck's sake. I’m having a baby. There will be a- Ah- a tiny being coming out of my body. There’s no time to candy-coat.” Jamia glared at Frank, who smiled back coyly, a blush shading his cheeks. He was definitely out of his league when it came to 'vagina' as a whole, let alone when things were happening to it. A nurse appeared in her peach-colored scrubs, helping Frank lower Jamia into a wheelchair before she was carted off God knows where. 

Frank stood there, staring at the thick double doors. He bit his lip, looking at the nurse behind the desk, “Do I follow?”

“Are you the father?” She asked and Frank swallowed thickly.

“Well, no but…” He sighed, “I’m all she has.”

“You can go through, take a left into the maternity ward, delivery rooms are on the right.” She gestured down the hall and Frank gave her a small salute before he went after Jamia. He pushed through the doors, his boots squeaking on the linoleum. He turned left, jogging into the ward that was suddenly all shades of pastel blue, pink, and yellow. Definitely the right place.

Frank stepped into the ward and peered through one of the doors, grimacing at the ball-tightening sight of a woman with her legs in stirrups and screaming in agony. Frank had never been more grateful for the back of a doctor's head in his life, thankful that it was blocking his field of vision into the bloody abyss. He stepped away from the door and peered into the next room, finding Jamia laying in the bed by herself looking horrified. Frank walked in with a smile, rushing over to her with a sympathetic face. 

“Hey…” He smiled, relieved, “Sorry I left you for a sec.”

“Don’t you dare.” Jamia hissed at him before wincing in agony, whimpering as her legs buckled, her knees lifting, “What about the paperwork?”

“I finished the paperwork about a week ago, I did it when you went to your last scan.” Frank brushed her hair from her face, “You don’t worry about any of that. Are we in the delivery room?”

“Yeah…” She cringed as she went through a contraction, grabbing the side-rails of the delivery bed in agony, her mouth open as she braced herself.

“I feel so useless.” Frank muttered as he stood at her side, watching her face contort and her teeth clench, “I don’t know how to help.”

“G-Get me fucking drugs.” She panted, “You fucking fuckhead fuck.”

“I don’t think that’s in my paygrade.” Frank put his hands in his pockets as she exhaled and flopped back against the elevated pillow, her face shaded bright pink.

“Pussy.”

“They’ll be in to check on you.” Frank smiled reassuringly, patting her hand, “I’ll get you some ice chips.”

“No!” Jamia gasped, sounding on the verge of tears, “D-Don’t leave me.”

“Nez,” Frank smiled, “The nurse is gonna be here to check you out… I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Okay…” She whimpered softly, relenting with a wince as another contraction punched the breath from her lungs. Frank waited patiently for the nurse and a doctor to walk in before he walked out to the ice station. He grabbed a cup and shoveled a handful into the plastic holder when his phone buzzed. He answered instantly without looking.

"Hello?"

"Frank," Gerard greeted, "I was just checking in. Making sure everything is okay with you both. Did you make it on time?"

"Oh," Frank's eyebrows rose, "Hi, sir. Yeah, I'm at the hospital now. She's having a check-up to see how far along she is but she's going through contractions already."

"I'm glad she has you there with her then, boy." Gerard cleared his throat, "I won't keep you. She needs you by her side if I remember correctly. I will see you tomorrow, Frank."

"Thank you, sir." Frank smiled as he hung up, ignoring the onslaught of butterflies that knifed their way through his organs. He hurried back into the delivery room, jumping in fright when he opened the door and found Jamia with her legs open and a woman on a stool with her head under a sheet.

“Wh- Oh, uh…” He went red, his face flooding with heat as he hurried over and held the ice chips out, “Here.”

“Thanks…” She huffed out as the nurse wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm.

“Alright, Miss Nestor,” The doctor reappeared with a reassuring smile on her face, “Your water broke when?”

“Twenty four minutes ago.” Frank looked at the watch on his wrist, “And contractions are every five minutes and last about half a minute seconds each.”

“Good. You’ve started bleeding slightly. All a good sign.” She pulled off a latex glove, discarding it in a bright yellow biohazard bin. She readjusted her glasses, “And you’re only four centimeters dilated, Jamia.”

“That’s…” Jamia cut herself off with a low grunt and a pitchy scream, arching her back as she went through another contraction. Frank set the cup down and put his hand on hers, the frown settling in between his brows. 

“You’re not quite ready to become a mom just yet.” The doctor explained as Jamia panted, wiping her forehead. The middle-aged doctor looked at Frank, “Are you going to be in here for the delivery, sir?” 

“Oh-” Frank went slightly pink, “I-I dunno if she-"

"He stays," Jamia interjected fervently, letting go of the handrails as she grabbed onto Frank's hand. He smiled at her as the doctor wrote something in her file.

“Your birth plan has already been submitted and I see you’ve opted for an epidural.”

“Please.” Jamia whimpered and the nurse vanished then, most likely to fetch the IV and whatever else was needed, of which Frank had no idea, “Frank?”

“Yeah, babe?” Frank smiled and she gestured weakly for the cup to which he raised up, pouring a few pieces of ice into her mouth, watching her face shift into somewhat relief, “You’re doing great so far.”

“Yeah?” She smiled weakly, “Bet it still feels better than anal.”

“Trust you to bring that up while having a baby.” Frank snorted and she managed a pained smile as she shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, I have it tattooed on me.” 

“Alright, Miss Nestor.” The nurse reappeared with a small trolley, wheeling it over to the side of the bed as she took Jamia’s hand and began examining before she picked up a sheathed needle. Frank took her free hand in his, smiling and distracting her as he pulled out his phone to show her a funny photo. She laughed, wincing as the IV needle was inserted into her hand and attached to the IV of fluids that now hung on a hook above her bed, “What would be more comfortable for you? You can sit up and bend forward over a pillow, or lie on your side curled up into a ball.”

“Wh-Why?” Frank asked with a frown, “Why does she… have…” His eyes widened as the nurse lifted up a thick syringe with a needle that had Frank’s heart stop. He looked at Jamia as she shuffled down onto the bed and turned, cringing, laying on her side. The nurse went around the bed and Frank ducked down, crouching in front of Jamia to smile at her, “You’re doing really well, y’know.”

“Fuck that’s cold.” She hissed softly and Frank glanced over her to see that they were cleaning her skin with what smelled like a very strong antiseptic. The assisting nurse picked up a smaller syringe that looked around the size of a normal needle and bent down to administer the contents. Jamia yelped at the feeling, her one eye scrunching up as she wrapped a hand around the guard rail. 

“So, not to sound like a fucking moron but… An epidural is?”

“An anesthetic.” The nurse explained, “It’s injected into the space around the spinal nerves to numb the pain of the contractions and the process of birth."

"Ow- Fuck-" Jamia exclaimed through gritted teeth, curling up as her knuckles turned white. Frank hushed, coaching her through the contraction with a gentle suggestion on stabilizing her breathing.

"Breathe out slowly and in for me, Miss Nestor. You've passed your contraction and we need to insert the epi." The nurse instructed and Jamia nodded, looking Frank in the eye as she took in a slow breath. She screwed up her face, whimpering as the needle was pushed into her spine. Frank couldn't help his curiosity and he stood up, taking her hands in his, as he glanced over. The thick needle was definitely inserted and it stuck into her skin much like the IV in her hand. The syringe was removed and a thick tube was attached to the plastic that now stuck out of her lower back. 

"It'll take anywhere between five to thirty minutes for the epidural to take effect so try and breathe through the contractions and we'll be back in an hour to check on you?"

"Yeah." Jamia breathed out gingerly, shakily, "This is what I get for having sex."

"Is this your way of declaring celibacy?" Frank asked with a smile as he walked over to grab a chair, pulling it closer to sit down at her side. 

"You bet your ass." She groaned as she turned over carefully, a hand on her stomach as she closed her eyes, "God, I have to pee."

"You're probably gonna pee during labor." Frank snorted, stifling it and looking away when he saw the glare in his direction. He cleared his throat, "Maybe you should pee before the epidural takes over and you lose all control."

"Oh, fuck." She sighed, "Yeah, that's a good idea. Can you call a nurse?"

Frank leaned in to grab the remote on her bedside table. He pressed down on the button right at the top and saw a light outside of the door turn a bright red. A moment later, the same assistant nurse peered in with a friendly smile, "Yes?"

"She has to pee."

"Oh." The nurse explained, “She can either have a catheter or try walking to the en-suite.”

“I can still feel my legs.” Jamia pushed the bedtray aside as the nurse moved her IV bags onto a wheeled stand and helped her from her bed to escort her in the direction of the bathroom. Frank looked away when Jamia sat down, the door wide open. He cleared his throat and looked at his hands.

“How long does it usually take…?” Frank piped up, “Y’know, all of this.”

“Well, on average it’s between ten and twenty hours, but I’ve seen women come and go in two, and I’ve seen them stay as long as three days.”

“Th-Three days?!” Jamia screeched as she staggered up, using her stand to pull herself into a semi-upright position. She turned, flushing the toilet before she slowly made her way back toward the bed, panting heavily.

“It all depends on the baby.” The doctor replied simply, helping their patient back into bed. Jamia’s IV bags were all placed back where they needed to be and she let out a groan.

“This little asshole better get here quick.” She gasped as she held onto the rails of the cot, panting. Frank pursed his lips, leaning over, wiping her forehead with a damp cloth. She reached over, popping a cube of ice into her mouth with a relieved hum. She grimaced, spitting it out. 

“That’s right. Calming thoughts.” Frank muttered softly and Jamia suddenly dug her nails into his hand when she grabbed him, tugging him to pull his face closer.

“I swear to God, Iero, I will staple your nutbag to your earlobe if you don’t shut up.” She hissed venomously and Frank swallowed hard. He nodded vigorously as his entire undercarriage gave a hard jolt back up into his body and his butthole clamped shut.

“Yeah, okay. I can do that.” Frank whispered softly. She eyed him before grabbing his shirt, dropping the ice cube down the neck-hole to watch him yelp and launch out of his seat with a start.

Four hours later and Frank was bleak, he was white and clammy and clutching on to Jamia’s hand as she went through almost an entire sixty seconds worth of a single contraction, her face screwed up in pure distress and covered in sweat. There were nurses in the room now and the doctor who was sitting at the end of the down-turned delivery bed.

“You’re nine centimeters.” The doctor informed, “Contractions are every two minutes for at least a minute in the last hour. You’re about to have your baby.”

“Oh, fuck me…” Frank whispered softly when he heard the words, realizing what was about to actually happen. The entire time, he had genuinely felt as though something else was going to happen instead of an actual baby. He almost felt dissociated to the situation because nothing had happened for so long, and now that he had heard the words, he felt like he’d been kicked in the gut, “No."

“Don’tyouleaveme, you rat bastard.” Jamia cried as she sat up, gritting her teeth as the doctor coached her through a contraction, guiding her on when to push and for how long before she flopped back again.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Frank muttered to himself as he looked down for a second and instantly regretted it, keeping his eyes trained, instead, on Jamia’s face.

“B-Blood?” Jamia’s voice broke, “Wh-What do you-?”

“Relax, that’s normal.” The midwife smiled reassuringly, “Now, I want you to push for ten seconds, Jamia.”

“T-Ten.” Jamia let out a small scream as she held onto the bed and did as best she could before flopping back down again when Frank placed the cool cloth on her cheeks, wiping off the sweat with a reassuring but shaky smile.

“How are you doing?” The doctor asked and Jamia shook her head.

“I-I can’t…” She cried brokenly, “It-It’s too much. I can’t- I don’t- Frank-”

“You’ve got this. Hey.” Frank took her hand, “You’re no quitter, Miss Nestor. You’re the strongest woman I know. And that’s Leia included. Now you push, okay? You can do this.”  Jamia merely nodded, with full-blown tears streaming down her face as she took a breath and kept pushing through a contraction.

Frank wasn’t even sure how long he had been standing there at his best friend’s side but he knew his feet were burning, his knees were stiff and both of his hands were covered and littered in little crescent-shaped marks from Jamia’s nails. It must have been over an hour that Jamia had been in active labor, it had to have been considering it felt like an eternity since they had gotten there. He brushed her hair from her face and tied it back for her in an untidy bun, keeping it out of her eyes. Frank was there the entire time, leaning over and holding Jamia despite the fact that he had sort of zoned out mentally, at first helping her through her breathing exercises before he ended up staring at the peach-colored wall ahead of him.

He looked down for a moment at the doctor who was bent down, sitting on a stool beside a tray of implements, with his head between her stirruped legs. He couldn't conceive how there was so much blood, the sheer volume of red on the sheets was astoundingly jarring. He looked down, watching her face scrunch up as she pushed after a contraction, screaming out in agony as she held onto the railings. 

A loud and squeaky wail all but slingshotted him from his reverie and he jumped in fright, looking at the source of the crying. His eyes landed immediately on the disturbingly white-and-purple colored, strawberry Jell-o covered baby with a shock of matted dark hair and tiny clenched fingers. He felt his heart stop for a moment and Jamia’s hand slip from his grasp as the cord was cut and the baby was taken from sight. He stepped forward on shaky legs, eyes wide with intrigue. He turned to see Jamia give one last push before she fell back on the bed, heaving through her tears and looking relieved with an almost dreamy smile on her chapped lips.

“You fucking did it.” Frank kissed her forehead, “You. Yourself. You did it.”

“Where…” Jamia frowned softly, not even able to crane her neck.

“They’re cleaning her up for you,” Frank reassured before he wandered over to the nurse, who turned and handed him the tiniest baby he had ever seen wrapped in a pink blanket. The involuntary smile spread in his lips as the nurse instructed him on the proper way to hold the baby; a hand under her head. He wiped a small red smear from her forehead and rearranged his arm to cradle the tiny swaddle.

“Hi…” He crooned softly, “I’m your uncle Frank. And you’ve got your mom’s nose… You’re lucky. She’s beautiful. I mean, of course, you knew that. You were there." Frank wandered over and smiled, turning to Jamia, who was asleep in the bed, eyes closed and peaceful. Frank carefully nudged her with his elbow, “Hey, Nez.”

“Is everything okay?”

“She’s asleep.” Frank frowned, “She hasn’t even met her daughter.”

“Jamia?” The doctor tapped her cheek lightly before she brought a small flashlight out and checked her eyes and her vitals. Frank frowned, a worrying confusion prickling the back of his skull as he watched the nurse run out of the room. The flurry of panic set the entire room alight and he was pushed out of the way, clutching the newborn to his chest. They came back with a crash cart, that Frank recognized, and his entire body went cold, watching from the corner as they tried to resuscitate his best friend. He watched them all trying to shock her back to life, the muffled yells of ‘clear!’ ringing but never registering over the static ringing in head. 

There was a moment where everyone just stopped, they all just stopped what they were doing, lungs weren’t compressed, defibrillators weren’t recharged and oxygen wasn’t being pumped. And Frank couldn’t take it.

“Why did you stop?” He croaked, his eyes blurring with tears as he stayed dead still in the corner, the rest of the staff turning to see him there, looking surprised that he was still in the room, “Why did you…?”

“I’m sorry…” The doctor replied calmly, wiping the sweat from his brow, “She didn’t make it.”

“No.” Frank let out a small laugh, “She was just here. She was- She just had… She has a baby! Wake her up, man!”

“There’s nothing more we can do, sir.” The doctor looked at Frank, who was shaking his head vehemently, “She’s gone. She has no pulse.”

“No- But- But, she… She had a baby.” Frank held the infant out for the doctor to see, looking at him pointedly as the denial-riddled whelp in his stomach continued to grow in size. His vision blurred over as tears stung in his eyes, unable to conceive the words that were bouncing around in his skull like coins in a jar.

“Some women just aren’t able to go through labor by themselves. Some women just aren’t strong enough-”

“Jamia is the strongest woman I know! Don’t you fucking dare! You don’t know shit!” Frank yelled angrily as the tears finally fell down his cheeks. The sounds of a baby’s upset wails cut him off and he jumped in shock, realizing that he still held the minutes-old infant in his arms. He wiped his nose on the back of his arm, “What the fuck must I do with her now?”

“Are you the legal guardian?”

“No.” Frank shook his head, “Just- Just a friend.”

“Does the baby have a father?”

“I-...” Frank scowled ruefully, “Yeah she does. Unfortunately. James Euringer.”

“She’ll be put up with us until a social can locate the father. Otherwise, she’ll have to be put into adoption.”

“Fuck…” Frank sobbed softly, looking down at the tiny and unknowing baby in his arms, “She’s not even an hour old and she’s already done so much. Just- Just take her, please. I can’t do this- I-” He handed the small blanketed baby over with repulsion, wrapping his arms around himself as he put his head against the wall. Frank wasn’t even sure if it had kicked in yet. So much had happened in the past six hours that he wasn’t even able to process any of it just yet. He had started crying, sure, but did every part of him know why? No. Not yet. But he knew it would, he knew he was going to crack soon as he stared at where Jamia’s peaceful form lay in the bed.

“Does she have a name?” The doctor asked. Frank looked up as the doctor carefully gave the baby over to a nearby nurse. He held out a birth certificate and Frank reached out with trembling hands. Frank’s arms felt empty all of a sudden, cold and useless like the ever-growing glacier inside of him that would take so long to melt.

“It’s okay.” The doctor smiled as he put the piece of paper down on a clipboard and held it, his pen poised, “I can write it for you if you have a name in mind.”

“Mia.” Frank’s voice wobbled profusely. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, unable to look behind him at the bloodied mess, “Mia Jinx Nestor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations by @FixingPumpkins , thanks a lot dude :) Also, I hope the translations work for you guys, it's all I could think of to do instead of leaving them in the comments like last time and not just randomly insert them into the speech.


	22. I Am How You See Me, Nothing More, Nothing Less

He couldn’t go home after leaving the hospital, he couldn’t bear to set foot in that house. Not now, Frank had thought to himself as he drove, trying to wipe his eyes on his arm in order to actually see the road. He had just wanted to do one thing and one thing alone, and that involved finding a bar somewhere and drinking himself into a stupor. He hadn’t stayed long at the bar. Frank had just wanted some peace and quiet while he drank alone, drinking to his friend who was no longer of this world. That thought alone had broken his heart into more pieces than breaking up with Ryan. He may have felt alone when he left Ryan, but now he felt completely alone because his friend who had taken him under her wing was now gone. Dead, the bitter truth still sinking in a bit slower when Frank was drinking his Jack and ginger. 

He never got his peace thanks to some drunk guy who chose to sit next to him at the bar, wanting to strike up a slurred conversation with him. Frank insisted that he wasn’t in the mood for talking, but the drunkard still pushed, nudging at him and trying to coax him into some conversation about ice hockey. Frank was not in the mood, fighting back tears while he sipped his drink. The guy just wouldn’t leave him alone and as much as Frank just wanted to shout at him, he didn’t have the energy to do it. In drunk annoyance, the older man gave up trying to talk to him, but what he muttered to Frank before he sauntered off, that’s what felt like a sudden punch to the gut for him, “Jeez, asshole, who died?"

Frank left after that, leaving his unfinished drink on the bar as he stumbled from his seat, biting back a sob. The tears stung and blinded him while he fought with his car keys, trying to get the godforsaken door open so he could just drive somewhere.  _ Anywhere _ . He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts and maybe a bottle of something to numb his aching heart. The liquor store had definitely been the next port of call, but sitting in the car park of a closed book store, drinking a small bottle of Jack Daniels that really did taste disgusting by itself. That didn’t have the same appeal as Frank first thought it would and drowning his sorrows suddenly didn’t feel like the right thing to do. Passing out in his car after drinking too much was probably not the best thing to do, either. Being alone made him feel like all he could do was cry and he would have no one there to help him. No one to tell him that one day everything was going to be okay all over again.

Frank swiped his card against the door, hoping and praying that someone- Anyone- was still in the office. It was dark’ it didn’t look like there was a single light on/ The only way he would know straight away was if he went around the back and looked in through the windows, but that would have looked suspicious. Even with the alcohol that had his brain in a fuzz, he wasn’t in the mood for sneaking around. He just wanted some company, even if it was some random colleague from his office. He knew exactly who he wanted to see, but with how his day had been going thus far, he didn’t have his hopes very high. 

The whole office was in darkness. He walked down the main hall, seeing a few computer monitors still on, but there was no sign of life in the whole place. No sound, no movement at all. Frank snuck his head round into his own office, seeing Gerard’s door. Nothing. More darkness. He wasn’t here and Frank’s heart sunk in his chest; this had been it. It was either going to be Gerard or Ryan and Frank had gone to look for Gerard first because he really didn’t want to have to choose his ex just because he needed someone to be there for him. But, what if Ryan didn’t want to be there for him? What if he didn’t want to be a shoulder for which Frank was meant to cry? Or what if he did? What if Ryan was willing to take him back in with open arms and forget everything that had happened? Frank knew he was vulnerable, and despite the scary idea of going to Ryan first, he didn’t want to make a mistake that he was going to end up regretting.

Frank walked down into the main room with all the computers, looking over everything before he sniffed, trying to hold it together. Frank reached into his pants, going for his phone. He wondered if he should at least text Ryan first to let him know that he wasn’t okay and that he needed someone to be there for him. Frank remembered that Ryan didn’t care too much for Jamia and that she was far too close to him for Ryan’s liking, but still, was he really going to keep hold of that stupid problem when she had just died? Frank hoped not as he fought back more tears, opening up his messages, beginning to type out Ryan's number because he no longer had it on his phone. Thank god he still remembered it as he started to type out his message to him.

“Frank?”

Frank jumped, a wobbled yelp leaving him when he heard the voice coming from behind him. He spun around quickly, sniffing to hide the fact that he had been crying, trying to look at lot sharper than he actually was, to see who was talking to him. The voice that calmed him and scared the shit out of him all at the same time.

“Sir,” Frank breathed a sigh of relief, seeing Gerard standing in the kitchen doorway, looking at him with confusion plastered across his face. It was late’ close to eleven o'clock and, somehow, Gerard was still here. He wasn’t where Frank had assumed that he would be; at home in bed with his wife. No, thank God, he was still in the office. Frank deleted his message to Ryan, pocketing his phone, “I-I was hoping you were still here but, I assumed that you’d… Gone home.”

“I was about to,” Gerard told him as he walked into the room, putting his hands in his pockets, “I’ve just been shutting down everything for the night- Frank, what are you doing here? It’s late. Shouldn’t you be with your friend in the hospital right now?”

That question hit Frank hard. The last time he had spoken to Gerard, he was running off to be with Jamia while she gave birth. Gerard had given him the opportunity to be there for her. And he had been there for her right to the very end. The question brought it all back, screaming through his head, the memory of her not responding while he was holding Jamia’s daughter in his arms. He was an uncle, but in the process of becoming an uncle, he lost his best friend. As much as Frank was holding it together right now, he was also losing grip of it all again and unraveling in front of Gerard, his bottom lip quivering as his eyes started to sting.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked, watching Frank nod as he bit down on his bottom lip and immediately looked down, whimpering. Gerard took an uneasy step closer, “Did something happen?”

Frank felt his shoulders starting to shake, his hands coming up to his face as he sobbed. He really didn’t want to come across as weak in front of Gerard, who was so strong, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks silently when Gerard came to a stop in front of him, taking hold of his shoulders to examine him.

“Did Ryan do something?” Gerard asked but Frank shook his head, trying to wipe his eyes, trying not to cry in front of his boss. It was too late, and another sob left him before the waterworks really started, coming out of Frank faster than he could hold it together, “What did he do? Tell me.”

“It w-wasn’t R-Ryan,” Frank told Gerard, looking at him for a second before he looked back down, looking at the black silk tie that Gerard was wearing because it was easier to focus on instead of focusing on the eyes that were trained on him, “I-”

Frank completely lost it as he opened his mouth to explain, his whole body shaking while he cried. Frank couldn’t even hold it together for long enough to tell Gerard what had happened. The idea of actually vocalizing what had happened ripped Frank apart’ if he said it then it meant that what had happened was real. Jamia was really gone and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Frank felt arms wrap around him, pulling him and holding him close. He continued to cry, sobbing against material that he soon realized was Gerard’s shirt. He was hugging him, holding him so close, like he was letting him just cry it out. He had no idea what had happened, but clearly it was something that had shaken Frank irrevocably. He may have been broken and felt like his life was falling apart around him right now, but at the moment where Gerard was holding him and stroking his back whilst letting him cry against his chest, Frank felt somewhat comforted. He was still crying, still letting heartbroken sobs muffle against Gerard’s shirt, but he didn’t feel so alone. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened, boy?” Gerard asked when Frank seemed a little calmer, hoping to find out why he was in such a bad state. Frank sniffed, trying to breathe through his nose, even though it was stuffed up from all the crying. Frank felt like he was calm enough to talk, maybe not calm enough to say what had happened without another influx of emotions taking over him. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand before seeing the wet blotch where his face had soaked into the white cotton of his boss’s button-up.

“You shirt- Shit, I’m so sorry,” Frank apologized as he reached up to wipe it dry with his hand, scrubbing at Gerard’s chest with the heel of his hand almost incessantly, “I’m so, so sorry about your shirt, sir. I didn’t mean to-”

“Relax,” Gerard shushed him immediately, “It’s fine. Need to get it all dry cleaned anyway.”

Frank nodded, still feeling guilty to a degree, but he had worse on his mind to worry about other than a white shirt with a mix of body fluids on it. Frank knew he could only remain calm for so long until he would need to breathe in. He was trying so hard not to crumble, but it wasn’t easy when Frank felt like his whole life was slipping between his fingers like sand.

“Hey,” Gerard spoke softly to Frank, his voice in a dulcet whisper as he put his hands on Frank’s shoulders to keep him steady, bending a little, “Is everything okay? Just tell me that. You don’t have to go into great detail if you don’t want to, my boy.”

“She died,” Frank blurted out, his voice croaking and cracking when an onslaught of emotions hit him hard. Along with the few drinks he had before he left the bar to come and find Gerard, the problem with talking a little easier was that he had admitted it. He told Gerard what had happened and the rest started coming out far too fluidly. The words leaving his mouth as rapidly as the tears began to fall again, “She went into labor… And afterward, she just… She’s gone. My best friend is gone and I can’t… I can’t…”

“I’m so sorry,” Gerard apologized, letting Frank collapse against his chest again. With one hand balled into a fist, Frank clung onto the lapel of Gerard suit, a fresh batch of tears already streaming while the most broken, gut-wrenching sobs tore at his throat. Frank felt Gerard holding him tightly yet again, comforting him. It helped, but it wasn’t ebbing the pain every time another piece of chest caved in, the dark maw growing steadily to an inordinate size like a black hole that sucked every ounce of happiness

“I- She left me, I-” Frank spoke against Gerard’s chest, not seeing the way he showed a flash of emotion across his face before he looked back down at Frank, “You don’t know how I feel right now. You don’t know what this is like for me.”

“I’m sorry, boy.,” Gerard sighed, pulling Frank away from his chest, looking at his bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks. Frank knew that he probably stank like all sorts of unknown viscera from hospital smell to alcohol and gross bar stench. Gerard pushed some of Frank’s hair from his face, “I don’t know what you are going through, but I will look after you. Do you want to talk about it?”

Frank shook his head, “I wish it h-hadn’t happened and, I- I just… I can’t-”   
  
“Alright, that’s quite okay, Frank,” Gerard sighed, looking at Frank’s face for a second, “How did you get here?”   
  
“I drove here.”

Gerard sighed as he held Frank’s face in his hands, “And how much have you had to drink?” 

“Why’re you...you asking me all these questions?” Frank frowned, wondering why Gerard was looking at him like he was trying to figure him out, “Wh-What have I done?”   
  
“No reason, depending on how much you drank before you got behind the wheel of your car,” Gerard said, looking far too authoritative for Frank’s liking.

“A couple of drinks, that’s all. A jack and ginger in the bar and I may have had a drink in a parking lot before I came here.”

Gerard sighed harshly, shaking his head, “So, you were over the limit?”

“Maybe,” Frank shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“You were,” Gerard snapped, “You can’t be so impetuous like this, Frank. You could have been in an accident, pulled over by the cops-”   
  
“Look, I got here in one piece, okay?” Frank held his hands up, feeling like he was a kid getting told off by a parent, “I don’t know what the big deal is. I’m not even drunk-”

“It is a big deal because you were over the limit! You were breaking the law!” Gerard retorted sternly, making Frank flinch back a bit. His voice was raised and Frank had never heard him speak like this before. It wasn’t even speaking anymore, it was nearly shouting at him. It had Frank’s knees buckle and his stomach drop as Gerard put his hands on his hips, “In New Jersey, a person is guilty of drunk-driving if he, or she, operates a motor vehicle with a Blood Alcohol Concentration of zero-point-zero-eight percent or higher. You Frank, you were drunk-driving.”

“But I wasn’t properly drunk,” Frank argued, knowing that he wasn’t the ‘swaying’ kind of drunk where he couldn’t even form a sentence without slurring. He couldn’t deny that he was a little buzzed, but there was no way he was actually properly pissed. He scowled up at Gerard, “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this-”

“Because I’m one of the people on the council who passed the law, Frank,” Gerard jabbed a finger at his own chest, making Frank realize with a small pang of guilt, “I was one of many who approved the drink-driving limit for this state, and you just had to ignore it! You could have caused an accident. Frank, you could have been killed because of your vacuous actions.”

“Well, I’m still here, aren’t I?” Frank held his arms out, showing Gerard that he was in fact here and not just another drunk-driving statistic. His friend had died and this was how Gerard was going to be? Picking apart the one thing that really didn’t matter right now for him.

“I wish I could say the same for one of my friends,” Gerard just told him while they still stood in the dark. It took a second for Frank to realize why Gerard was making such a big deal out of this and probably why he had the drunk-driving law changed in the first place. He stood quietly in the hallway because couldn’t fight back at now, letting Gerard continue, “He had the same mindset to you in this kind of situation. Carefree. Liked to have a drink or two and still drive even though he knew he was over the limit. He believed he was invincible. He didn’t think that he would end up getting pulled over or hurt because of him.”   
  
“Did he…?” Frank trailed off, not wanting to finish the question. It was an easy assumption considering Gerard spoken about his friend in the past tense, and because of his sudden animosity towards Frank’s recent stint.

“He died in a car accident because he was over the limit. He injured two other people in the process and died on impact. I was devastated because he was a good friend of mine when we were in college together. Not only was it his life but the life of a young woman and her child who had been walking on the sidewalk on their way to get dinner that night. Frank, they were on the sidewalk. Do you understand the gravity of your actions at all, boy?”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Frank apologized timidly, lowering his head, “I-I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know because you didn’t ask. Being so incautious, I’m so disappointed. You may think that it won’t happen to you because you think you’re not  _ that  _ drunk,” Gerard continued while Frank stared intently at his boots, feeling irrepressible amounts of guilt on his shoulders., “But it does happen. It happened to Steve and it could happen to you… Lindsey was devastated when she found out.”

“Was he a friend of hers, too?” Frank asked curiously, frowning at the mention of his boss’s wife. He didn’t even know why he felt the need to ask, but it came out before he could stop it.

“Steve was her brother,” Gerard stated simple, making Frank realize just how personal this was for him; his brother-in-law had died drink driving. Of course, Gerard was going to be furious at him for what he had done to get here. Frank shrunk back in himself a little as Gerard kept his eyes trained on him, watching him for a second. He sighed, shaking his head again before running his hands through his hair.   
  
“I’m sorry, sir,” Frank muttered, feeling pretty stupid now over what he had done. He toed at the carpet, putting his hands behind his back,“I-I didn’t think.”

“Clearly, you didn’t,” Gerard muttered, watching Frank before he pushed a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a set of keys, “Well, it looks like I’m going to be taking someone home tonight then, doesn’t it, boy?”

Frank looked up in surprise, “You don’t have to drive me home. Honestly, sir, I can call a taxi.”

“It isn’t a bother,” Gerard waved a hand at him, his anger over the situation seeming to dissipate. Frank was sure that he was still annoyed at him, but he didn’t want to ask just in case it brought it all back and Gerard just started all over again, reminding him of how stupid he had been, “Someone has to look after you, my boy.”

“Uh…” Frank watched in the darkness as Gerard walked passed him, clutching onto a set of keys before he stopped, looking back at Frank like he was expecting something from him.

“Well, are you coming, pup?” Gerard asked, assuming that Frank should have known to follow, “I can’t have you staying here overnight. Lindsey will have a fit if someone gets into the crackers or vomits on the desks.”

Frank nodded, sniffing as he walked behind Gerard the two of them leaving the office. Frank stood outside in the cold for a second, hands stuffed inside his pockets in a pathetic attempt to keep warm. God knows why he hadn’t brought a jacket, but then again, he had no idea that he was going to be coming to the office at eleven o'clock at night. He had no idea this morning when he woke up that he was going to witness his best friend bring a new person into the world before she left it. Frank shuddered in the cold both inside his body and at the exterior chill in the air, waiting for Gerard while he activated an alarm inside. Moments later, he appeared with his leather briefcase in hand. He checked the door after locking it and pocketed the keys. He walked passed Frank, waving a hand at him to follow as he pressed a button on his set of keys. A car's lights flashed in the small car park to the side of the office and Frank just followed complacently behind his boss. He was completely zoned out, coming to a stop by a new black Beetle. Hands still in his pockets while he shook from the cold, he watched Gerard set his bags down on the back seat of the car, shutting the door before he got into the car.

“I thought you had a driver?” Frank questioned when he got into the car, watching curiously as Gerard fastened his seatbelt before pushing the keys into the ignition. Gerard had been driven around on the day that he had bought Frank the suits. He had honestly expected Gerard to be waving down his driver again tonight, but apparently not.

“I do from time to time. When I need him,” Gerard answered, starting the car, “But I knew I was going to be staying later tonight to cover for the work you missed. Lindsey left me her car. She had the pleasure of being driven home tonight.” Gerard glanced at Frank as he reversed from the parking space, “Seatbelt on, boy.”   
  
Mumbling out an apology, he strapped himself in, trying not to stare at Gerard. As much as Frank knew that he was sad and completely numb from the loss of his friend, there was still a part of him that was thrumming over his boss. He looked at his beat-up white ride and frowned as they passed it, “What’s going to happen to my car?”

“You can pick it up tomorrow. There was no way I was going to let you drive home in your state.”   
  
Frank wanted to protest, saying that the only state he was in was a very sad and numb one. He held his tongue, remembering the lecture he had received from his boss.  _ Don’t start him up again _ , Frank thought,  _ he made a point and you don’t want to make him pissed again _ .

Frank just nodded, hating the idea of having to get dropped off at work on a Saturday just so he could drive back home. Not that he knew what ‘home’ was right now. The idea of going back to Jamia’s place just seemed like far too much for him. Even thinking about it made Frank sniff, fighting back tears that were threatening to fall yet again.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked, glancing over at Frank briefly, seeing him wipe his nose and his eyes quickly.

“No,” Frank said dryly, a smile being forced onto his lips as a coping mechanism, “I feel like shit.”

“Understandable,” Gerard nodded in the darkness, focusing on the road while Frank leaned his head against the window, trying to remain all in one piece. His bottom lip wobbled a little in the dark, but somehow, he held it together, not wanting to break down again. Gerard cleared his throat as they turned onto Grand Avenue and passed the Ephatha Mental Health Clinic on the left. Frank looked over at his boss, who pursed his lips, “Frank...can I ask you a question?”

He shrugged, “Sure,” 

“Did the baby…?” Gerard stopped himself, trying to pick his words carefully. Frank scowled out of the window at the passing blurs of buildings that were illuminated by the streetlights. They came to a stop at the intersection of Grand and Virgil and Frank stared at the Colonial Bar out of the window on the right.

“She's okay,” Frank muttered, “She's at the hospital now until they can find her dad.”

“Does she have a name?” Gerard queried curiously, wondering if Frank was going to divulge that information. He was fragile. Gerard didn't know if he was going to be willing to answer.

“Mia,” Frank sighed, remembered the tiny person that he had held, swaddled in the blankets, the moment she had been born. The tiny little girl with the muss of brunette hair who looked just like her mother. Frank’s chest ached at the memory that made him pause for a second before he continued, “Mia Nestor. I named her before I left.”

“What's going to happen now?” 

“Look, I appreciate you being concerned and asking me all this stuff, but I'm honestly not in the right frame of mind to be talking about this shit right now.” Frank cut Gerard off as they drove under the Route 46 bridge. He felt bad enough leaving Mia alone at the hospital. He knew she was in good hands, but the idea of even considering what he could have done to help, Frank felt like he wouldn't have been able to help. The idea of adopting his best friend's daughter seemed like the right thing to do, but Frank knew that he wouldn't have been able to do it. Sometimes he could barely look after himself, let alone a small person who would have been completely dependant on him for so many years. And definitely not one that he’d have to look at every day and watch her grow into her mother. He couldn’t stomach it. 

“Of course,” Gerard nodded, looking out of the window at the Grand Plaza shopping center that was in complete darkness, “I completely understand, dear boy.”

For the rest of the drive, Frank remained silent and it was a jarring ten minutes. He didn't feel like talking, he just felt like being quiet with his head resting against the window of the passenger door, zoning out. Barely even noticing the surroundings that were passing him by as Gerard drove, he noted Leonia High School on the left when it blurred by, he noticed when they drove under the I-95 and minutes later when they drove under Route 4 because this is exactly how he went home every day. None of it registered in his tipsy skull, not even when they eventually turned off of Grand Avenue into some very swanky suburbs. He didn't know where he was right now, assuming that Gerard was just driving him back to Jamia’s place in Tenafly. Gerard was just driving and Frank had no idea where, nor did he care, to be perfectly honest. He was too miserable to care at all, barely holding it together.

It was only when Gerard turned the car, slowing down as he pulled into a driveway that Frank didn’t recognize. He lifted his head away from the window, realizing that Gerard hadn’t taken him home at all. It was then that he realized Gerard couldn’t possibly take him home if he didn’t know where his supposed home was situated. He looked out of the windscreen, seeing a large house in front of him. Had Gerard really brought him back to his own house instead of taking Frank to where he had been staying with Jamia? Frank couldn’t quite believe what had just epiphasized in his head. It was hard to notice the detail in the dark, but just by first glance, it was definitely a fancy place. Frank tried not to appear too awed about the house as Gerard pulled the car up under the carport to the right of the building. Frank sat in silence, not entirely knowing what to say or do while Gerard turned off the ignition.

“Home sweet home,” Gerard spoke to himself, smiling somewhat in the dark, looking rather happy. It was getting closer to midnight and Frank still couldn’t understand why he had been at the office for so long. “You coming, boy?”   
  
“Where are we?”

“My home, Frank.” Gerard leaned down to look at Frank who was still rooted to the seat.

“But,” Frank got out of the car, following Gerard up to the double front door, mouthing a  _ wow  _ quietly to himself. He admired the place while Gerard searched in his bag, looking for house keys. The house was almost villa-like, the outer walls painted off-white with terracotta -ed tiles lining the roof. Ivy climbed up the walls to the right of the front door, making Frank look up, following the creeper, noticing the shutters on the windows. The whole place screamed power and money, including the garden which looked immaculate, even in the dark, “Where is your house?”

“Englewood,” Gerard announced simply as he opened door to let Frank follow him inside. _Of course, he lives in Englewood_ , Frank mused to himself with a slight snort. He watched as Gerard shut the door behind the two of them, kicking off his shoes, revealing mustard yellow socks with scarlet toes and heels. They really didn’t look like anything Frank would have expected Gerard to wear, but then again, he had also never expected to be setting foot into his boss’s house.

“Oh, I drive through here to get to where I live.” Frank nodded, kicking off his own shoes, assuming that was a custom for them when he saw a pair of Lindsey’s red-soled heels at the door. Frank watched Gerard set his briefcase down near his shoes, and he just stood there, not sure if he should follow any further. The inside of the house was astounding. It was like a realtor’s wet dream, the inside of the house. Frank swore he had never seen, or even set foot, into a house that was this pristine, the kind of place that you would only see in brochures when you were looking to buy. He walked down the few small steps from the main entranceway, coming into the open planned front room with cream-painted walls and white wainscot lining the room. Frank chose to stay put, standing on the ash-wooden floor, avoiding the plush rug; it looked far too clean to be dirtied with the human touch. Same for the cream couch and armchairs that surrounded a leather ottoman. Matching cushions, in all shades of dark brown and plum, lined the long couch that could easily fit five people, . Gerard stood by the breakfast bar, shrugging his blazer off, loosening up his tie before starting to go through his mail. He stood there, hands in his pants pockets, not really knowing what to do with himself while Gerard tore open an envelope, reading what he had been sent.

“Que ils faisiez envoyiez a moi maintenant? Je pensais je reglais ceci.” Gerard muttered under his breath as he stroked his chin idly.

[“What have they sent me now? I thought I settled this.”]

“You have a nice house.” Frank piped up in a quiet voice, breaking the silence after Gerard had muttered to himself in the language he didn’t understand. Gerard smiled at Frank, not noticing the blush that had crept onto his cheeks; a little too far away to see it. Frank was grateful for that while he tried to reel in the crush that was trying to make itself known right at the forefront of his brain.

“Lindsey does like to keep this place in order, sees herself as a bit of an interior designer,” Gerard chuckled to himself, “Plus, there is something about a clean house, it really does wonders for the psyche.”

Frank nodded at that, not really knowing what to say while he looked around, noticing the vase of roses between the armchairs. That touch definitely had ‘Lindsey’ written all over it, and other little things about the place screamed ‘Lindsey’, too. The pictures that lined the walls of the staircase to his right had an elegant oriental vibe to them that seemed so akin to how Frank knew Lindsey. The curtains by the large patio doors to his left; how warm the kitchen felt just by looking at the rows of lights that hung by the back wall. This place had a woman’s touch and it was definitely the house of a happily married couple, much to Frank’s dismay.

“So…” Gerard spoke, still going through his mail when he caught Frank’s attention, making the latter look across the room at him, “Do you want to tell me what you did this evening before you came into the office?”

Frank swallowed at that question. Gerard already knew that he had been drinking so he couldn’t have told him off for that again, could he? Gerard wanted an answer when he paused what he was doing, giving Frank a look that let him know he needed to answer quicker.

“Well, I left the hospital and drove to the nearest bar I could find,” Frank began to answer, looking down at his feet while he spoke, “Then some asshole wouldn’t leave me alone, so I left the bar and ended up in a liquor store. Bought some whiskey and went to some abandoned car park behind a bookshop. Stayed there for a bit, cried for a bit,” Frank blushed, admitting to the fact that he had been crying made him feel somewhat emasculated, “I drank some more before I came to the office in a pathetic attempt to find someone I could talk to.”

“Lucky I was still in the office,” Gerard commented, looking over another letter that he had opened, “Another few minutes and I would have left. You wouldn’t have been able to get into the office. Where would you have gone then?”   
  
“I don’t know,” 

Frank sighed, ignoring the fact that he had considered Ryan as a last resort. That didn’t matter anymore now and Gerard didn’t need to know about that. Frank had found him in the office, that was all that mattered, Gerard waved a hand, “I’m sure staying here will be much more comfortable than sleeping in that beat-up old ride of yours.”

Frank wanted to protest and say that his car wasn’t that old, but then he would have been lying. Still riding around in the same car that his parents bought him when he passed his driving test. It was like a prized possession for him. He eyed the man who was watching him, swallowing hard,  “I’m staying here?” Frank stuttered out, not sure if he had heard Gerard right, “I just thought…”   
  
“You thought?”   
  
“I dunno,” Frank shrugged, “I just thought that you’d send me on my way once you’d made sure that I was okay.”

“You’re a valuable member of my staff,” Gerard said pointedly, “I’m not just going to send you on your way based on my scale of you being fit enough to being alone.”

“Then, why am I staying here?” 

“Because it is nearly midnight, I am tired and I will admit, I would rather put you into bed upstairs than have to drive you to where you live,” Gerard admitted, walking into the kitchen, “Now, can I get you anything? Some food?”

“Not hungry, sir. I’m good.” Frank smiled weakly at Gerard, feeling a little more confident with his surroundings. He still refused to step onto the rug, sticking to the wooden floor, treating the carpet like it was lava in a children's game; avoid it at all costs. He walked around slowly, carefully, Frank wanted to do was just sleep and pretend that today hadn’t happened at all.

“Is there anyone you need to call? Let them know where you-”   
  
“Honestly, sir,” Frank cut him off, not noticing how Gerard looked at him with utter shock for interrupting him mid-sentence, “You’ve done more than enough for me already. I don’t know how I can repay you, but I’ll be okay. You don’t have to run around after me. I’m a big boy.”

“You could always repay by having common decency and manners,” Gerard snapped, making Frank flinch, wishing that he was still stood on the same spot where he was a few minutes before. The look on Gerard’s face was enough for him to know that he had done wrong. Shame swirled in his stomach but at the same time, it felt weird. He stared at the wood-grain as he clasped his hands nervously, flinching as Gerard continued to admonish him, “You do not interrupt people when they are talking, boy. You speak when it is your turn. Do you understand?”   
  
Frank nodded, feeling like it was better that he didn’t speak right now. Whatever he said, he would probably only end up making Gerard more annoyed. His boss scowled at him, “You answer me when I ask you a question, boy.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. Yes, what?” Gerard raised his eyebrows at Frank.

“Yes, sir.” He finally answered correctly, feeling like a dog who had just been told off, tail between its legs. Frank avoided looking at Gerard, only glancing at him when he heard movement, listening until it sounded like he had stopped. Frank looked around and he saw Gerard standing near the stairs, looking back at him. Almost like he was about to click his fingers at him to hurry up. If Gerard moved and looked at him like he was running out of patience, it usually meant that he was supposed to follow. 

Frank followed Gerard up the stairs, going down the hallway and passed two bookcases filled with books, ornaments and things that Lindsey thought were aesthetically pleasing for the house. Turning right, they walked past a door on their right before Gerard came to a stop by another one on their left. This was clearly where Frank was going to be sleeping that night and it was obvious when Gerard opened the door for him, signaling for him to enter.

Frank fought back another ‘wow’ when he entered the room, reverence and wonderment took over as he looked around. This wasn’t like the small room that Frank had gotten used to sleeping in at Jamia’s place with the single bed shoved in the corner. No. The room spread out at least three times bigger than his previous space. The walls were painted cream again. A full-size wardrobe spread out over one side of the room, silver-grey doors hiding what was stored behind them. An already-made double bed sat opposite the wardrobe, bedding white and pristine with a throw on the end of the bed that matched the color of the wardrobe doors. The bedside lights that were sitting on end-drawers at either side of the bed, they were switched on, lighting up the place in a warm glow. Plus a miniature chandelier hung from the ceiling, making the whole room look like it was worth more than Frank’s belongings tenfold.

“You can sleep in here tonight,” Gerard told him, walking over to what he thought were more cupboards against a wall. Frank couldn’t hide his amazement when Gerard opened up a door, revealing an en-suite bathroom, “You should have everything you need in here. I’ll only be down the hall from you anyway.”

“How many bedrooms does this place have?” Frank asked curiously, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment, bouncing a little like a kid.

“Four.” 

“And all the rooms look like this?” Frank queried, going to lie back on the bed, sprawling out because it was by far the most comfortable bed on which he had ever lay.

“Lindsey likes to have all the rooms made just in case we have any unexpected visitors,” Gerard answered, looking pointedly at Frank.

“And where is Lindsey?”   
  
“You do ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” Gerard commented, “Probably in bed, asleep. I told her not to wait up for me- Now, I’m assuming that all you have is what you’re wearing?”

“I am how you see me,” Frank smirked, a form of coping mechanism kicking in; the braggadocio masking his pain. He was also still quite tipsy, which explained why he was so chatty. Not just because he was looking for a distraction to take his mind off the fact that he had lost his best friend, but because his brain was still a little fuzzy from the alcohol. He giggled, “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I think I have some spare pajamas that you can borrow.” Gerard vanished a moment later, disappearing out of the spare bedroom, and at that moment was when Frank’s façade slipped. In the few minutes that Gerard was gone, the realization hit that he was really  _ alone _ . Jamia was gone and it was unfair, Ryan was gone but that was fair. Frank knew that he would have gone mad if he’d have stayed together with him for any longer. 

He sat up on the bed, trying to hold it together despite the illusion and glamour over his head that had now begun to fade again. He had no idea how he had been able to hold it together for so long. Maybe it was Gerard, maybe it was his demeanor that had helped Frank hold it together. He was strong so Frank could be strong and without him in the same room, the walls crumbled around Frank, leaving him more broken than he was a month ago. He was trying so hard to hold it together, knowing he had lost that fight when he fought the sting in his eyes, squeezing them shut only to let the tears fall once again.


	23. I Have Far Better Things to Do with You Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made a Spotify profile for Vanilla and I've uploaded playlists for some of the characters if you're interested. Follow the link or search for 'Vanilla is for Ice Cream'. It will be updated semi-regularly with new stuff as I go :)

[Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/mxhiahmttp2yd4e1c1i3ciev7?si=nqiIhmlhQV2A62jpOAbfKQ)

Frank was sobbing uncontrollably, his face buried in his hands, the tears streaming down to puddle in his palms and make his cheeks sting. His shoulders shook with every hiccup, his chest ached and his throat burned with each hot sob that tore through it like a hot knife. He hadn’t even noticed that Gerard had come back into the room until he felt hands on his arms, pulling him up from the bed. He let himself he pried from the mattress, pliantly and blindly following when he was wrapped up in Gerard’s strong grip yet again. He quietly sobbed against Gerard's chest once more for a long second, an excruciatingly lengthy period of time existed between them as Frank continued to weep brokenly.  
  
“S-Sorry,” Frank apologized quietly when he calmed down enough to say something, trying to wipe his nose on the back of his hand instead of on Gerard's shirt, “I need to st-stop doing this.”  
  
“Nonsense,” Gerard soothed him, “Clearly, you need to let it out so isn’t it better to have someone with you while you go through this?”  
  
“Probably right,” Frank spoke against Gerard’s chest, still crying but somehow feeling calmer. Was Gerard really having such a calming effect on him? Being soothed just because he was there and holding him, reassuring him. An overwhelming sense of security and comfort took over Frank. The way Gerard was holding him so close, one hand on his back, the other in his hair, holding his head in a gentle cradle against his sodden shirt. Gerard was calming and Frank was grateful, sniffing occasionally, attempting to compose himself before he moved on from this moment. But, Frank didn’t want to separate from this moment, he was truly grateful for how he felt so secure in Gerard's arms. Something about it clouded his mind with inept clarity like everything made sense for a fleeting second. Everything slotted into place like it was supposed to be this way. It wasn’t, but with how Frank felt and how he wanted to feel absolutely nothing, and how his feelings for the man embracing him. It made sense. This was an ‘in the moment’ circumstance and as much as Frank knew he really should have thought about this a bit more, he decided not to think too much about it. It was an opportunity he shouldn’t have taken, but he stopped caring at that moment.  
  
Frank stared at the exposed skin from where Gerard had loosened off his tie and unbuttoned his top two buttons. It was so tempting when Frank was this close to him. Pale skin Frank remembered from countless dreams, and he knew that he wasn’t drunk enough to be stupid. Maybe drunk on attraction, but that was harmless. How could it be wrong when all that Frank had felt for the past month seemed right?  
  
Frank moved tentatively, still holding onto him Gerard, who was patiently comforting him. Frank just couldn’t help himself when there was definitely something that was pushing him closer, holding his own breath for a second, only inhaling because Gerard did smell incredible. Like an intoxicating leathery peppermint scent that drew him in even more. He knew there was a substantial height difference between them and when he stood up straight, he looked directly at Gerard’s throat, and that’s exactly where he lay his lips.  
  
“Frank…” Gerard’s voice was barely above a whisper, the sound vibrating against Frank’s lips. He swore that he heard Gerard hum softly in response to the touch and lean into it more than Frank had anticipated. Frank felt fingers on his chin, tilting him to look at his boss in the dim light. He knew every move he made was risky at best and any action could have been a step too far. He was completely dumbstruck when Gerard’s lips were on his, a hand still tucked under his jaw to keep him close. He knew Gerard was leaning down to meet him, head bent to accommodate for their height difference. Frank went up on his toes, meeting Gerard halfway as he deepened the kiss. Frank never in a million years would have expected Gerard to kiss him after he made a move. That was why Frank kept everything so secret; his itsy-bitsy huge crush on Gerard. But this was totally unexpected, Gerard was reciprocating and had instigated the kiss.  
  
Frank felt his insides warm when Gerard kissed him, lips moving to deepen the kiss, Gerard had a hand in Frank’s hair, one on the small of his back, holding him so close. Closer than when Gerard had been trying to comfort him, molding together near-perfectly. Frank deepened their kiss, sliding his tongue along Gerard's bottom lip, hoping to give him the hint that it wasn’t _just_ a moment of making out he wanted. But Frank still felt firm hands on his forearms, pushing him away, “You aren’t thinking clearly.”  
  
“I am,” Frank protested, knowing that Gerard was pulling out the ‘too drunk’ card just because he had made a move, but Gerard had been the one to make the proper move, “I’m not that drunk. I swear. I-I know you don’t wanna take advantage but, I-”

“I never suggested that you were that drunk,” Gerard told him, looking at him. Frank frowned and looked down under the weight of Gerard’s gaze, “Frank…”  
  
“Yeah?” Frank asked and looked at his boss pointedly, staring him down to try to prove to Gerard that he wasn’t drunk. A little buzzed from the Jack, and a little giddy from Gerard, but he definitely wasn’t drunk. Frank never got a verbal response from Gerard, however, he got what he thought was quite possibly the best response. Gerard kissed him again, grabbing hold of Frank tightly and pulling him closer when lips clashed roughly. Every stolen glance had been worth it, every daydream that he had to snap out of when someone at work spoke to him, all totally worth it. Gerard continued to kiss him, Frank kissing back, desperate for more, pawing at him and whimpering when Gerard grazed teeth on his lip, tugging slightly.  
  
Gerard stopped again, a small moan leaving his lips when he pulled away for a second time. Was Gerard just messing him around? Frank huffed, feeling his heart beating hard in his chest, the butterflies in his stomach were not calming down. A month without anything but his right hand had left Frank needy, his brows furrowing as Gerard raked his hands through his hair.  
  
“Why did you stop this time? Did I fuck up?” Frank asked, his annoyance coming through in his words. Gerard looked at him but didn’t say a word and Frank swallowed. Gerard didn’t answer him, looking away from him this time, looking at one of the potted plants that sat on top of the chest of drawers.  
  
“Look, sir,” Frank sighed, noticing how Gerard’s eyes flitted back to him darkly, “If you’re worried about me being drunk and taking advantage of me… You wouldn’t be. Please, if anything, I need this. I can prove to you that I’m not drunk.”  
  
Gerard watched Frank closely, not moving a muscle while his eyes widened. Frank knew what he wanted and it was something of which he couldn’t just let go  
  
“Look…” Frank started, holding his arms out, standing still, touching his nose with a finger, “I wouldn’t be able to do this if I was drunk. I can also do my alphabet backward if I have to,” Frank continued, racking his brain, hoping and praying that he could actually do it. He frowned as he thought, “Z, Y, X, V- No, W. Okay, this is hard but, I swear I’m-”  
  
“Oh, shut up,” Gerard cut him off, putting a hand on Frank’s chest, pushing him down onto the bed before he took a step closer. Frank gasped when Gerard was on the bed with him, spreading his legs apart, getting in between before he was on top of him, leaning down to kiss him again. Frank tried to crawl up the bed a little, get himself into a better position, but Gerard held him down. He used one hand on his shoulder, fingers looping under one of his suspenders, pulling it off swiftly and doing the same to the other one before Frank had even realized. He was more focused on the fact that Gerard’s mouth had moved, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin of his throat, making Frank keen at the contact. Gerard turned his attention to ridding Frank of his shirt, popping the buttons open with skilled fingers, tugging the shirt free from where it had been tucked into his pants. Frank suddenly felt so exposed while Gerard was still clothed, but it gave him such a rush. His stomach knotted when Gerard paused, looking down at Frank, eyes scanning over his rising and falling chest.  
  
"You weren't joking when you said you had quite a few tattoos," Gerard commented, looking at the ink that adorned the skin in his view. The swallows that sat above Franks beltline, the ‘Hope’ and flame above his nipple. Gerard already knew about his half-finished sleeve and the anchor with ‘NJ’ on either side of it. The scorpion too, but the hidden ones were far more interesting. They had never been seen before until Frank lay on the bed, looking up at Gerard, who eyed his skin before asking, "How many more do you have that I don't know about?"  
  
"You'll have to find out," Frank answered cockily, knowing that Gerard was going to find more. He wanted him to find more, that meant that he would have to take more of his clothes off. Frank lifted his hips up when Gerard reached out, unfastening the belt, tugging it open before getting his pants undone. He discarded the material on the floor and Frank once again noticed that Gerard was still fully dressed by the time he rid Frank of his entire ensemble. He was still dressed, looking down at Frank with hunger in his eyes; the look that Frank had been dying to see on him for so long. The look that was going straight to his dick, already half-hard and starting to ache.  
  
"You are a wonder," Gerard spoke under his breath, his words getting lost in Frank’s head when he leaned down, pressing kisses along Frank’s jawline, working higher until teeth grazed against his gauged ear. Frank whimpered, Gerard's hot breath right in his ear, it made his skin prickle. The knots in his stomach tightened more and Frank couldn't help how he sounded. The noise escaped his mouth before he even registered that it had been him that made it. After being so used to quiet sex with barely any sort of feedback or need to be vocal, it was abnormal. Frank couldn't help it when Gerard was right up against his ear, neck, rolling his hips down. The fabric of his pants along with the friction of his erection against Frank’s dick had him mewling.  
  
Frank wanted to take the opportunity to get Gerard to the same point, so curious about how he looked without any clothes, especially after what Frank had envisaged. Frank attempted to shift under Gerard, hoping to end up flipping him over so he was on top of him on the bed. He didn't think it would be difficult to get Gerard into that position, but he was proved wrong when he attempted. He felt hands grab hold of his wrists, pinning him down onto the bed. The weight of Gerard pressed down on him had him stunned, Frank tried to free his wrists from Gerard's grip, but it pointless.  
  
"Looks like someone is going to have to learn who is in charge here," Gerard whispered sternly. Frank felt himself clench at the authoritative tone, his insides bubbling away under his skin. Just the way he spoke made Frank feel like he was melting onto the bed. Frank bit back a whimper, wondering how this was all going to work and that turned Frank on more. He didn’t understand why Gerard's words and tone were affecting him. The torture of it all, because all Frank wanted was sex with Gerard, but he climbed off the bed, leaving Frank whining at the sudden lack of touch. Gerard eyed him darkly, "Don't move, do you understand?"  
  
Frank propped himself up on the bed only to flop back down when he had nodded at Gerard. Not moving seemed like such an easy thing to do, but with an aching dick that was tempting him, it was harder than Frank thought it would be. Only wanting to reach out for a moment while Gerard was gone, jerk off for a second until he heard movement outside the bedroom. However, Frank didn’t dare; something about the way Gerard had spoken to him sat in Frank's head so obediently. He listened and waited patiently, hoping that Gerard would just hurry the fuck up.

Gerard returned moments later, walking back over to the edge of the bed, tossing some lube and a condom down onto the mattress. Frank swallowed at the sight, knowing that he was going to be on the receiving end of Gerard’s dick. So insistent on who was in charge. It was obvious that Frank had got the wrong end of the stick in the beginning. Frank felt giddy about the idea of it, actually being fucked, and Gerard wanting to fuck him into the mattress. Frank was so turned on that he was pretty sure he would let Gerard do absolutely anything to him.

Frank propped himself up on his elbows when Gerard started to undress. Finding himself unable to look away, fixated when the tie was removed from around his neck, discarded on the floor without a care. Gerard started to unbutton his shirt, ridding the item of clothing from his frame, and Frank was one hundred percent sure that he wasn’t dreaming Frank couldn’t pull his eyes away from Gerard while he stripped down. He found himself unable to look away, seeing pale skin that he expected, watching as Gerard undid his belt and his pants, pushing the fabric down around his thighs until it dropped to his feet. Frank felt like he had just had the best present unwrap itself in front of him. Gerard was standing there in nothing but a black pair of underwear that left very little to the imagination. Just as Frank expected, the tight underwear revealing the line of his dick, making Frank’s mouth water. If only he could reach out and touch him, reach out and hold the weight of him in his hand. Frank shifted closer to the edge of the bed when Gerard looped fingers under the elastic of his underwear, pulling them down.

He was bigger and thicker than Frank had expected and he gawked as Gerard took his dick in his hand, stroking slowly, his eyes trained on the boy that was spread out on the bed. Frank wished that he had his own hand wrapped around Gerard, he that he was the one to make Gerard suck in a breath when he rubbed his thumb over the head. Frank shifted again, ignoring how Gerard had told him not to move because Frank just wanted to touch him, feel him. _Taste_ him. Frank felt nervous, unsure of whether or not he had to ask if he could because he had gotten so used to being denied. Frank didn’t even have the mental capacity to ask Gerard if he could do what he wanted. He sat on the edge of the bed, toes curling into the carpet with anticipation. He was close to Gerard and he felt like he had forgotten what it was like to feel the weight of someone in his hand, or the weight and taste of someone in his mouth. He got the gumption to push Gerard’s hand away from himself, replacing it with his own, pumping slowly, listening to the breathy moan that escaped from Gerard’s lips.

Frank knew what he wanted to do and, for a moment, it felt weird. Frank half expected Gerard to say ‘no’ to him. Frank hesitated, still running his hand along Gerard’s dick, his mouth-watering, but he resisted, stopping himself because it was so instinctual to be hit on the head when he wanted a dick in his mouth. Frank knew that he couldn’t let that stop him and Gerard was looking down at him like he knew Frank’s exact thoughts. Frank tested the water, running a wet line with the tip of his tongue on the underside of Gerard’s dick. He went for it, fighting back a smile when Gerard groaned, a ‘ _fuck’_ falling from his lips, his breathing faltering when Frank ran the ball of his tongue piercing along the length. He definitely hadn’t lost his touch and Gerard definitely didn’t sound like he was going to stop him. Frank wrapped his mouth around the head of his dick, tongue lapping over the slit.

“Jesus…” Gerard breathed out huskily, looking down at Frank, watching him swallow around his dick, trying to take as much in as possible. Cheeks hollowed, Frank tried to ignore how his gag reflex was protesting. Frank, however, was more than happy, humming when Gerard praised him for what he was doing, loving how Gerard ran his hand through his hair, taking hold of strands tightly, “Fuck.”

Frank pulled off with a rasping gasp, a line of spit connecting himself to Gerard, and ran his thumb over the spit-slick head of his dick. Frank looked up at Gerard, seeing how he was staring down at him with hunger in his eyes. There was something else in his eyes that made Frank’s stomach tighten exponentially, burning hot from the inside out, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Frank barely had a moment to think about it before Gerard pushed his hand out of the way, taking hold of his own dick before pushing it back into Frank's mouth. The ache hit Frank’s jaw quicker than he expected and he moaned around the intrusion, his eyes watering with the slick slide of dick against his tongue. He tried to breathe evenly as Gerard took control, pushing further into his mouth, rocking himself off. His hand was still in Frank’s hair, holding tighter, taking some of the focus away from the dull pain in his jaw. He just kept a hold of Frank, thrusting into the back of his mouth, loving how Frank swallowed around him, making him moan when could feel every inch of Gerard in his mouth. He whined at the thick length weighing on his tongue turning him on, the bitter taste of precome on his tongue. The thought of Gerard getting close made Frank whimper and he away, licking his lip as he jerked him roughly. Frank tongued at the slit, panting heavily, needing Gerard to fuck him but, at the same time, he didn’t want this to stop. Gerard pulled away, panting, clearly not wanting it to go this way. At one point Frank was practically willing Gerard to come in his mouth, or come on his face. 

“Another time,” Gerard whispered, stroking his dick slowly. Frank hoped that there was going to be another fucking time and not an empty promise. Frank really wanted to blow him, let Gerard fuck his mouth, maybe even choke him on his dick a bit. Frank was an adventurous man when he was turned on, at the best of times. Now was different; he wanted to fuck and be fucked. He wanted Gerard in charge as long as he finally got a dick in his ass. Gerard ran a hand through Frank’s hair to grip it for just a moment, hearing the whine that fell from Frank’s swollen lips. He leaned down, hovering over Frank, “I have far better things to do with you right now.”  
  
Frank swallowed, he could feel his heart beating out of his own chest and so many sordid thoughts passed through his mind. Gerard’s words sent a shiver down his spine and a shock to his dick while he crawled back up the bed. Gerard joined him, spreading his legs apart, pushing Frank down onto the mattress. He had a hand on his dick and it made Frank mewl at the feeling of someone else's hand on his dick. Gerard stroked him while reaching for the lube, thumb rubbing over the piercing, making Frank cry out and shudder.

“Not just a tongue piercing you have…” Gerard commented, removing his hand from Frank when he got the lube, leaving Frank breathless and a little embarrassed about how he sounded. Gerard didn’t seem to bat an eyelid as he uncapped the lube, squirting some onto his fingers, making Frank clench because only his own fingers had ever been in his ass. The idea of someone else fingering him, prepping him for the first time, it made Frank’s stomach drop to his feet. His dick was still aching, precome leaking onto his skin when a wave of nerves passed through him “You are more than fascinating, boy.”

The breath caught in Frank’s lungs when he felt fingers circling his hole. Gerard was merely stroking him, teasing him, but it had Frank arching his back, the lightest touch feeling so sensitive. Finally, someone giving him the attention in bed, wanting to have sex with him. Frank bit his lip when the first finger slid in; the initial stretch not to bad. He wasn’t trying to get the right angle, Gerard was sinking a finger in slowly at first, going easy until Frank relaxed around him, panting at the feeling. Gerard pushed in a second finger, listening to the guttural moan that left the shaking boy on the sheets. Frank panted, feeling Gerard’s hand gripping his thigh, the other one working him out with exquisite pressure. Gerard didn’t stop, scissoring and curling his fingers in Frank, who felt like he was melting onto the mattress. His insides bubbling so hot, Frank just wanted Gerard to be in him; he could take it. Two digits going to three was more than enough for Frank once the burn of the stretch subsided and he was no longer uncomfortable. Frank tried to sit up impatiently, grabbing at the back of his head to pull him down on top of him, “Gerard, fuck, come on.”

The soft laugh that left Gerard had a flurry of butterflies swarm through Frank, his hand tugging on Gerard’s soft hair, whining at the man on top of him. He shuddered a breath, “Please…”

“Eager boy. Such a wonder...” Gerard commented, pulling his fingers out, leaving Frank feeling gutturally empty and desperate to be full again. Frank couldn’t prop himself up for long, the weight of the moment rendering him helpless and needier than he thought he would ever be. He couldn’t remember a time before when he had been this turned on, this desperate for sex. It was like he had been doing it all wrong for so long, and now Gerard was introducing him to how it could really be. If he wanted to be a desperate little bitch who was happy to spread himself apart to get fucked, then he would, and it was highly appreciated when Gerard nipped at his ear before whispering, “Someone needs to learn some patience.” 

“Please-” Frank pleaded, getting a hand on himself, keeping himself teetering on the point of sheer bliss while Gerard grabbed the condom from between the folds of bedding, tearing the foil open between his teeth. Frank watched as he rolled the condom over himself, grabbing the lube again before coating himself up. Gerard pushed on Frank’s knees, opening him up more, getting right where he wanted him, the blunt tip of dick nudging at his hole, making Frank keen. Frank dropped his head back against the bed, feeling frustrated when Gerard tortured him with his dick, rubbing against his hole. Frank was hanging by a thread whilst the older man refused to push in just yet, smearing right against him. Frank was close to pushing Gerard over and do it himself, sink down on him because he was being too slow. 

And then Gerard took hold of the base of his dick and began to push into Frank, the action took him by surprise, the air leaving his lungs involuntarily when Gerard started to enter him. So much thicker than fingers and he knew it. Frank bit his lip between his teeth, trying to breathe through Gerard slowly pushing into him. They had gotten this far and there was no going back despite the ravaging ache. Frank knew he had to relax and breathe through it when Gerard edged further in, every fiber in his body was screaming at him to push Gerard away.

“Take me so well,” Gerard purred softly, running a hand over Frank’s pink-flushed chest, watching how he would whine and arch his hips to accommodate the fill that sunk down to his bones. Gerard pushed in another inch, thumb flitting over Frank’s frenum piercing slowly, “So tight- Fuck.”

After what felt like forever, Gerard bottomed out and Frank lay there, panting and staring up at the ceiling until Gerard propped himself over him, leaning down to kiss him chastely. He felt so full for the first time in his life. Never having had someone buried deep inside of him, going from nothing to ‘Gerard’ in such a short space of time. The ache was still there, the burn still sizzling under his skin, but Gerard adjusted, moving in him slightly, making an ‘ _oh’_ escape from Frank when pleasure rippled through his core. Frank felt like he couldn’t breathe when Gerard had started moving, slowly at first, head dipped down low, grunting while he rocked his hips. He was thick and hard in him, leaving Frank speechless and holding onto the bed, feeling like he was disconnecting from his whole body. Unable to feel anything other than where Gerard was in him, pleasure and pain mixing together. The burn was still there and Frank tried to relax, breathing as evenly as possible through his nose as he closed his eyes. He felt the sudden press of lips against his forehead when Gerard leaned down. Frank opened his eyes and looked up at Gerard, aware that he probably looked flushed and frazzled, spread out on the white bedding. It was as though Gerard knew. Frank hadn’t wanted to say that he was struggling to adjust, but he understood, giving him time to adjust while he rolled his hips against him, going flush with Frank’s ass. Gerard continued his slow edging, sliding in and out in short but patient bursts to help the inexperienced boy assimilate to the length inside him. 

It was minutes later that Frank was moaning on the bed, the ache subsiding and nothing but pleasure coursing through him from where they were connected. Gerard was silent, focusing on Frank when he threw his head back, arching his back, thankful that he had put up with the initial pain. Frank tried to control the noises that were leaving him, holding back on the moans and the profanities, but he just couldn’t help it. Gerard sped up when he begged for him, told him to ‘go faster, oh God, please’. The moans fell from his lips involuntarily, the vulgar sounds that Frank lost all inhibitions over. Gerard was thrusting into him and Frank didn’t want it to stop, panting out Gerard’s name every now and again when he hit a good spot or thrust in harder and made Frank convulse.

Gerard shifted halfway through, giving Frank a moment to catch his breath when he pulled out, leaving him feeling so open and used. He loved the feeling more than he ever thought he would. Gerard wrapped his arms under Frank’s legs, Gerard bent him over so far forward with his knees almost near his chest. Frank had never realized he could bend that far because he had never needed to bother. The angle had him moan like a whore, feeling more open and exposed to Gerard, begging when he pushed back in. It felt deeper and more intense, and Frank swore that he was going to sob. Gerard kept his previous pace with adept skill, his hips snapping forward, Frank felt so overwhelmingly full all over again

“I’m g-gonna come…” Frank panted out fast when it started to climb higher in him, his orgasm so close he wanted to chase it, but at the same time, he didn’t want it to be over. He wished that Gerard could keep this up for hours, pound into him like there was no tomorrow. The sound of skin slapping against skin pushed him even closer, leaking all over himself, Frank knew he couldn’t stop what was coming at him like a runaway train, but just a little longer. A little more time as Gerard changed the angle ever so slightly, hitting his prostate, making Frank cry out loudly, unable to hold off for much longer.

It hit Frank hard, the wildfire in him spreading through him from the pit of his stomach, engulfing every part of his body. Like electricity crawling up his spine, reaching his brain to punch one last shaky breath from his lungs. He couldn’t even focus on oxygen when he came, streaking his stomach and his chest with come, his back arched and his nails raking down over the sheets. Coming untouched had Frank dumb, his brain whiting out in his skull, feeling like none of his body was really attached to itself. Gerard moved his arms, letting Frank’s legs drop back down onto the bed. His weight pressed down against Frank as he continued to thrust in with dizzying speed. Frank peeled open his eyes, looking up at Gerard, noticing the sheen of sweat on his forehead, his hair sticking to his brow. He looked like sex and the greatest fuck Frank had ever had. 

Still thrusting into Frank even harder, hitting his prostate every now and again, he babbled out a weak moan, the pleasure too much on his sensitive nerves that were trying to work overtime, whole body trembling as Gerard chased his release. If Gerard kept this up this, Frank was sure that he would get hard again, but Gerard was starting to pant. His hands found Franks wrists again, pinning him down, not wanting him to move a muscle while he fucked into him. Frank attempted to wrap his legs around Gerard, holding him in place, wanting Gerard to come deep in him as he whispered croaked pleas for Gerard to do just that. The sweat coated them both and Frank’s legs were like lead, he couldn’t move them high enough to hold on, he lay beneath Gerard and took every stroke. Frank watched Gerard’s face contort with the unbridled pleasure. He was so close and Frank could see it, his brow furrowed and teeth gritted. 

A few hard slams into Frank and Gerard was coming, panting heavily through his orgasm, riding it out with erratic ruts of his hips. Frank clenched around him, feeling Gerard’s thick length throb as he came, the feeling bewildered him and had him whine softly.

Eventually, he stopped with a small moan, still inside of Frank, trying to catch his breath. The room fell silent once more as the post-sex haze started to surround them both. Frank hissed when Gerard eventually moved, pulling out of him as gently as possible. As good as it felt, Frank felt soreness setting in almost immediately. Gerard removed the condom, tying it off before he tossed it into a waste bin in the room before he flopped down next to him on the bed, pushing his damp hair away from his brow. Frank had no idea what to say to break the silence. 

They both lay there, the whole moment finally sinking in as Frank shifted on the bed, feeling a warm glow over his whole body, smiling as he draped an arm across Gerard’s chest. It was a natural thing for him to do after sex. Maybe Gerard wasn’t running off to clean his teeth as Ryan used to but, it was a habit that Frank enjoyed. The post-sex closeness that Frank craved. Gerard didn’t move for a moment and Frank wondered if he had made the moment awkward by going in to hold Gerard. He considered moving it away, but he felt like he had kept his arm there for too long now. If he moved, it would have been obvious that he noticed the tension. Gerard moved on the bed, rolling onto his side to face Frank, surprising him when he put his arm around Frank to pull him close. Gerard’s other hand sat behind his head while he looked at Frank, giving him a tired and weak smile. Nothing awkward apparently. 

“Sleep,” Gerard muttered out, eyes closed because he was tired, he breathed deeply, a content sound that had Frank smile again. He nodded, happy to stay put in Gerard’s hold, feeling comfortable and somewhat better than he had earlier, “Good boy.”


	24. I'm Vastly Aware of the Situation, Thanks

Frank awoke the next morning in unfamiliar sheets, his legs wrapped up and his face buried in a feather pillow that wasn’t his, the linen smelling of a subtle citrus spray that was both refreshing and homely. He pressed his face deeper into the cushion before opening a bleary eye and looking around. He was greeted by beige walls and a four-poster bed in light wood, the white sheets embroidered with small little flowers and swirls. 

He frowned, not quite yet realizing where he was until his ass gave a dull throb, making him jerk; the night before came screaming back to him and his face flooded with color. He rolled over, looking over to see the other side of the bed in disarray, the pillow with an obvious head indent.  _ Gerard _ . Frank smiled proudly to himself at the realization that he had bedded his boss, remembering how they had been entwined in this very bed, these very sheets, his very self.

But the boss in question was not where Frank had wanted, not in the bed with him, and judging by the temperature of the sheets themselves, he had been gone for a while. And that’s when the panic set in, the realization that not only did he have sex with his boss, he had sex with his married boss, in their house, with his wife somewhere nearby. Frank felt the well of guilt suddenly break in his stomach and he felt sick, he felt nauseated as the back of his skull began to prickle and tingle like it did when he was in trouble as a child.

Frank then thought it best that  _ now  _ was the time to leave, that he should get the hell out of Dodge before Lindsey saw him. Hell, he didn’t even know what time it was. Frank sat up, stretching and yawning involuntarily as he searched and scanned the floor for his clothes, coming up empty. The only thing he had found was the pajama shorts Gerard had brought him the night before; a simple pair of navy blue cotton boxers that Frank reckoned belonged to Gerard.  _ Even better _ \- this small thought was both sarcasm and not.

Frank slipped out of the bed and grabbed the shorts, tugging them on and up with a snap of elastic on his waist. He cautiously snuck out of the room and walked down the hall- to find Gerard and his elusive clothing- taking everything in around him from the feel of the off-white carpet under his feet to the beige walls with the photos of Gerard and Lindsey that adorned the walls, the two of them at different ages and stages in their life. It was intriguing to see Gerard when he was younger; a brilliantly shocking white-platinum crop of hair, the same confident and charming smile on his face. The change in hair color in the next photo grew to a tousle of black hair with Gerard looking a hell of a lot younger than the other two, possibly in high school. Frank chuckled then, smiling at the photo before he descended the wooden stairs into the main part of the house. The open plan living room and kitchen that sprawled out larger than he remembered; everything in whites and beiges with splashes of color here and there.

Frank walked into the kitchen where he found Gerard perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, a plate of eggs and toast in front of him, and undoubtedly a coffee, as he read through the paper in his hands. Frank looked at Gerard’s hands and swallowed, also taking in just how gorgeous he looked with morning sex-hair and an oversized white Bowie t-shirt.

“Good morning, Frank.” Gerard broke the silence first as he turned a page in the newspaper, taking a sip of coffee, “I trust you slept well.”

“Yeah, thanks…” Frank replied awkwardly, “A little worse for wear, not gonna lie.”

“Undeniably.” Gerard commented, “How are you feeling overall?”

“I’m…” Frank trailed off, thinking of how he wanted to answer, “I’m okay for now, I guess.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.” Gerard nodded, still reading before he glanced up, “And that face?”

Frank realized he had been grimacing, the pain in his ass was now starting to wake up as he did, and it was becoming more noticeable to the rest of him- especially considering he had never bottomed before. He tried to hide the chagrin from the dulled ache, “I- Well, I’m kinda sore.”

“My sincerest apologies, boy.” Gerard folded his newspaper and set it down, clutching his Star Wars mug in both hands, watching Frank over the rim of it, “Can I offer you some breakfast? Coffee? Tea?”

“I,” Frank withheld the urge to wince again when a particularly sharp tendril of pain ricocheted into his hip, “I think I’m alright for now.”

“Frank…” Gerard replied in a warning tone, making the younger male’s stomach jump and his brain melt into submission.

“Yeah, okay.” Frank nodded, grumbling as he scratched his head. He looked up guiltily, “But I don’t want you making it. You’ve done enough for me as it is.”

“If you insist.” Gerard gestured to the fridge, “Help yourself, boy.”

Frank nodded, turning to look at the chrome icebox beside him before he padded over to the monstrosity and opened it, both surprised, and not, by the contents; so fancy and full. Frank’s fridge was usually filled with the basics in his old house, not to mention the leftovers that littered the shelves. This was a wake-up and a half, his stomach choosing that moment to growl, obviously awake now. But the pain in his ass was getting somewhat worse and he cringed again, readjusting his leg when his knee began to tremble.

“And that?”

Frank looked at Gerard, blushing somewhat that Gerard had seen him yet again, “Sorry. It’s just… Tender, I guess.”

“But I’m sure you’re no stranger to it.” Gerard waved a nonchalant hand and Frank froze, looking from the fridge to his boss with both eyebrows raised indignantly.

“I- What?”

‘We don’t say ‘what’, we say ‘pardon’, boy. Don’t be so discourteous,” Gerard corrected before he shrugged noncommittally, “And I simply stated an obvious fact, did I not?’

Frank was outraged at Gerard’s assumption and he instantly rebuffed, “I’ll have you know, sir-”

“Oh, will you?” Gerard interrupted with an amused smirk and a devilish twinkle in his eye, “Go on then, have me know.”

“That I- Well… I’ve never been on the receiving end before. Not until last night.”

Gerard spat out his coffee suddenly, back-spitting into his mug as he did a wide-eyed double-take at Frank’s revelation. He looked up, coffee slightly dribbling to his chin that he wiped off on the back of his hand. He stared at the boy in his kitchen for an indecipherably long second, tilting his head, “You’re good-naturedly ribbing me, aren’t you?”

“Nope.” Frank winced at another twinge in his asshole. He closed the fridge, leaning back against the counter to stop his leg from twitching at the pain, “I was always the ‘fucker’ in my relationship, both literally… And figuratively according to Ryan.”

“I don’t believe you.” Gerard squinted at him, “You never struck me as anyone with any sort of authority. I just assumed you were a bottom; it’s how I perceived you from the start.”

“I-I don’t know how to take that.” Frank admitted, his cheeks warming up and definitely going pink, “Ryan’s a huge poof compared to me.”

“I see…” Gerard stated, “I see…”

“Do you?” Frank asked, folding his arms when Gerard merely shrugged, going back to his paper, making Frank frown. He was starting to get a bit annoyed at how Gerard was handling all of this, how nonchalant he was to the fact that they had been together the night before, that Gerard had been unfaithful to his wife of so many years… That Gerard had been the first person physically inside of him. Frank looked away, feeling somewhat miffed at the entire situation now, his usual guilt now ebbing into a simmer of regret. Frank decided to ignore Gerard, going back to the fridge when he opened it, sticking his head in when the front door opened.

“Good morning, you old grump.”

Frank froze, every drop of blood draining from his body and turning him ice-cold when he heard Lindsey’s voice. Frank snuck the tiniest of peeks to see Lindsey in a pair of three-quarter leggings, a black sports bra and trainers, a water bottle in her hand and an iPod in her arm-sling, her blond hair in a ponytail.

“Good morning, dear.” Gerard smiled as Frank peered on, praying to God that Lindsey didn’t see him, his upper half hidden by the fridge, his lower by the counter. Lindsey leaned in, kissing Gerard’s cheek before she took a sip of water and set the bottle down.

“How did you sleep?” She asked as she absent-mindedly picked up a stack of papers from the counter and began glancing- skimming- through them.

“Pretty well,” Gerard answered after swallowing a bite of his toast, “I was presumably exhausted after last night.”

“I heard you come in.” She nodded, “I went through the Dustan-Gurade files last night.”

“How’s it looking?” 

“Bleak.” She sighed, “They’re not as generous as they used to be. Mister Gurade is in the stock market and his shares are falling pretty low.”

“Pity,” Gerard muttered as Lindsey wandered into the kitchen, still reading through the files, facing Gerard, who had locked eyes with Frank. Frank was about to pee, his legs shaking as he laid his forehead on the rack in the door.

Lindsey went to reach for the fridge door when she stopped and realized it was open, turning to see Frank when she screamed in fright, throwing papers everywhere as she jumped a mile high. Frank instinctively yelled out in surprise at her vocalization, jumping back and hitting his head on a shelf in the fridge. He cursed loudly, rubbing the spot on the top of his head as it stung, his face screwed up. Frank glanced at her tentatively. She stood there, looking him up and down with a hand on her chest, panting heavily when she turned and looked at Gerard. A heavy scowl setting in her dark brows when she walked over to Gerard and grabbed him by the ear, making him yelp and lean into it, cursing under his breath. Frank watched in awe as Gerard slunk off behind her, his ear still in an iron grip as they disappeared into another room.

“Motherfuck… _ Shitshitshit _ -” Frank hissed under his breath, his heart pounding as he bent down, scrambling to pick up the pages on the floor that Lindsey had dropped, waiting for a screaming match to start. But nothing happened, no sound was heard as Frank set the pages down on the counter again, not sure about the order they were in. He most likely decided that Gerard and Lindsey were arguing in hushed tones so he didn’t hear. He was a guest after all, despite the reason why. Frank knew he had fucked up, he knew he had gotten Gerard in deep shit, he knew he should probably leave but in what, he didn’t know. He didn’t even have a car.

The door opened and Gerard walked out, clutching his ear for a moment before he sat himself in the same barstool with Lindsey standing there in the doorway, hands on her hips and looking like fury-incarnate. Frank slunk backward, shying out of her view with his hands clasped in front of him like a misbehaving schoolboy in the headmaster’s office, “Sorry…” Frank muttered softly, unable to look at Gerard as the panic set in, “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking last night and- And my best friend had died and I was looking for comfort and-”

“Frank…”

“No, let me finish.” Frank put his hands in his hair, “I shouldn’t have started this. I shouldn’t have gone to find you. It was either you or Ryan- I mean I have no one else. My parents live in Denver and I have no other family and no real friends because I’m a loser and- And I felt so shitty and I just wanted someone to be with and talk to but you were there and you smelled so nice and you were hugging me and- Oh, God, I’m gonna be sick-”

“Frank.”

“Fuck, I fucked up so badly. I ruined your marriage and I made Lindsey so mad- Fuck, I should have gotten her a bigger bunch of flowers. I should get some more. Roses. She liked the roses, right?”

“Frank…” Gerard sighed, watching him with a fist under his chin to prop himself up.

“Gerard- Sir, I- I’m sorry. I know I… Oh god, you’re gonna fire me, aren’t you? You’re using the sympathy voice. Oh, God, you’re gonna ax me- Fuck, I- Wh-” Frank began to hyperventilate as he paced the kitchen, feeling like he was about to faint or vomit or both. 

“You look nauseous. Would you like an antacid or something?” Gerard offered and Frank turned, clutching his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. His eyes were wide as one of them began to twitch, his heart racing and his stomach doing bigger somersaults than Nastia Liukin.

“An antacid?” Frank’s voice rose in pitch and volume, “You think I want a fucking  _ antacid _ ?!”

“Calm down before you keel over, boy.” Gerard watched him calmly, no doubt waiting for Frank to finish panicking before he fired him and kicked him out, waiting for Frank’s personal storm to blow over before Gerard brought on the second one.

“This is going to be so awkward at work- Wait. You’re gonna fire me. I-I can’t look at Lindsey ever again. Oh, God.” Frank whimpered as he lay his face on the fridge, trying to lower the temperature in his face, “I don’t wanna get canned.”

“I’m not going to dismiss you.” Gerard sighed, “Calm down.”

“How are you so calm right now?!” Frank finally rounded on Gerard, waving his arms infuriatedly, “You do realize your fucking wife saw me like this?! I’m in  _ your  _ underwear!”

“I’m vastly aware of the situation, thanks.” Gerard stated simply, entwining his fingers on the counter, “Now, boy…”

“What?!” Frank snapped.

“We need to talk.”

‘Oh, fucking do we?” Frank replied sarcastically.

“Enough tone with me.” Gerard warned, “I’ve given you quite a bounteous amount of leeway with that attitude of yours and I would appreciate you putting it away.”

Gerard’s words seemed to calm Frank despite him feeling like it would do the opposite. He nodded, taking in a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair, looking down at his feet, “Yeah.”

“Now. come sit here. We need to talk.” Gerard pulled out the barstool beside him and Frank cautiously padded over, leaning up to slide into the chair, resting his arms on the marble counter, looking down at his hands. Gerard sighed softly, “I need to share something with you considering you’re now involved a little more personally with me. And it’s something that no one else knows. It’s of utmost secrecy, do you understand Frank?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Look at me,” Gerard ordered and Frank obeyed, looking up into Gerard’s stern-set hazel eyes, the hardened gaze made his stomach jump and he nodded. Gerard seemed satisfied with Frank’s earnest reply, “Good. You’re not going to be fired, I promise. I’m not letting you go because of this, okay?”

“Okay…” Frank felt a small release of relief in his tensed and taut body, his leg twitching beneath the counter, his nervous tic returning, “Gerard?”

“Yes, boy?”

“Do- Do you and Lindsey have a weird… Kind of an open relationship thingy?” Frank then asked with a glimmer of hope that maybe he hadn’t fucked up so badly.

“In a way…” Gerard trailed, “Very open.”

It was just then that Lindsey reappeared, dressed in a simple black summer dress, standing in the doorway. Frank looked down, nodding at Gerard’s words despite not understanding them. She put her hands on her hips, “Have you told him yet?” 

“Getting there, dear.” Gerard professed.

“Told me what?” Frank frowned between the two of them as he wondered what the fuck was going on. Because yes he had been told that they had an open marriage, but it still seemed funky to him.

“And you swear to secrecy alright? If this gets out, my career will be over.” Gerard warned and Frank felt a sense of panic rush over him again but he still nodded.

“I understand.”

“Your boss is a fat liar,” Lindsey interjected, sounding far too impatient for the current situation and Frank let out a groan, realizing Gerard had lied. There was no open relationship, Gerard was trying to let him down easy. He and Lindsey were ‘married’ married and Frank had fucked up.

“Frank…” Gerard put his hand on Frank’s for a moment before moving it away, “Lindsey and I, we’re not together.”

“Wh-” Frank frowned, completely confused as he looked at Lindsey and at Gerard a couple of times, “Pardon?”

“We’re not together.” Gerard repeated, “Lindsey and I have been best friends since elementary school and when I went into politics, I knew that no one would accept me because I’m gay so I got Lindsey to be my wife legally with the documentation. So, I’m a married man to the rest of the world, the perfect image. But, she’s my best friend and nothing more.”

“Oh, my God,” Frank whispered, his mind completely blown to smithereens. He looked at Lindsey who was smiling back at him, arms folded and leaning against the doorway, “You’re serious.”

“Completely.” Lindsey smiled sweetly, “Fake, but legal, marriage.”

“Then- Then why the ear-grabbing and- And the angry looks?” Frank asked and Lindsey rolled her eyes.

“Because this grumpy fart can’t stop dipping his  _ pen  _ in the company ink. He’s a disgusting pervert,” Lindsey scoffed, “It’s a wonder he hasn’t been caught out yet.”

“What I’m worried about is…” Gerard eyed Frank as he pointedly ignored Lindsey’s comment, “Last night you knew I was married and it didn’t stop you. Do you have any morals, boy?”

“I-” Frank went red and he looked down, guilt and shame clouding over him.

“Gerard,” Lindsey scolded, “Leave the poor boy alone, his friend passed away.”

“Alright.” Gerard held his hands up in surrender and Frank threw Lindsey a grateful glance.

“So…” Lindsey walked into the kitchen and began pouring herself a glass of juice, “Nice job with shaking our ceiling tiles, by the way.”

“I-” Frank looked up with wide eyes at the realization that Lindsey had heard him, “You-”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have my own side to the house. I live on the left and Gerard on the right, we share the downstairs, though. But when I heard him come home I wanted to talk to him like always. I got to the door and I heard you.”

“Oh, my God.” Frank muttered, hiding his face in his arms on the counter, wishing the world would just open up and swallow him whole, “Oh, God. Oh, my God.”

“I will admit, you were rather loud,” Gerard added and Frank could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Oh, so were you, grumpy,” Lindsey interjected.

“I was a fair amount of volume, thank you.” Gerard replied simply, “What I didn’t realize beforehand was that I was having sex with a lawnmower.”

Frank sat up, looking at Gerard with a frown, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Did no one ever tell you that you snore, boy?” Gerard smiled over his glass of orange juice as he took a sip and Frank grumbled curses under his breath, his blush spreading into his ears as he looked away, “Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

“It’s not that bad.” Frank repeated slightly louder, “I know I snore.”

“You’re right.” Gerard smiled, “I’m just pulling your leg, Frank.”

“Good.” Frank sighed, “And you’re not pulling my leg about being married?”

“No.” Gerard nodded firmly, “That was all serious chatter.”

“Okay...” Frank nodded, “Right.”

“What time are two heading to the office?” Lindsey asked and Frank looked up in a pleasantly puzzled surprise.

“I told everyone to be there around eleven. I said we’re only working half a day.” Gerard nodded, looking at the clock on the wall, “I suppose we should get ready.”

“I’m sorry, but…” Frank looked at them both in confusion, “I’m missing something.”

“You must not have checked your email yesterday.” Gerard stated, “I informed everyone that they have to be at work today. It’s coming up to the financial year-end and we need to make sure everything is all sorted.”

“Yeah, I missed that.” Frank scratched awkwardly behind his head, “Sorry.”

“Not to fret. Your clothes are in the dryer, the shower is upstairs and you’re welcome to breakfast.” Gerard slid from his chair, “I have a phone call to make beforehand.”

“Okay…” Frank trailed off as Gerard walked over to Lindsey, kissed her cheek, and disappeared back into the room they had gone into beforehand that Frank now realized was a home office.

Frank looked at Lindsey, “Sorry…”

“Well, what you did was pretty rude, sleeping with my husband.” Lindsey eyed him as she set her glass in the sink, “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Yeah... “ Frank sighed, “Lucky.”

Was he lucky, though? Frank didn’t know. He didn’t know what to make of the situation anymore, he was so much more involved than he had expected and anticipated and he wasn’t sure if this was what he wanted it to be. Was he honestly ready to take on something like this? He was now alone in the kitchen, alone with himself and he couldn’t even begin to grasp everything and anything that had just happened. It wasn’t even ten in the morning and so much had just gone down, Frank was still reeling.

The one thing that bugged Frank the most was what Lindsey had said about Gerard, about him and his pen and the company ink. Frank understood that to mean that he wasn’t the first person to work for Gerard that he had slept with and he wasn’t sure why that particular part bugged him so much. He hoped it was someone that had left by now, hoped it was no one that he had to deal with on a daily basis but Frank shrugged it off. If he knew Gerard as well as he hoped, he was certain that Gerard would have gotten rid of them by now, he knew Gerard wasn’t the type to have loose strings attached to him for the sake of keeping a public face.

But that faced another question, raised another niggling thought. If Frank wasn’t fired now, how long did he still have left working for Gerard? How long until Gerard got tired of his face, Gerard had gotten what he wanted from the chase, he had gotten what he sought after and how long would it be until Gerard got bored again?


	25. Turning Up to Work Looking like You Buttered the Biscuit

Frank stood in the kitchen at work that Tuesday, staring at nothing, his eyes completely unfocused, while he waited for his coffee to be ready. Frank had his mug set on the counter, waiting patiently for there to be enough coffee for him to pour out, he was irritated. Generally irritable to be perfectly honest, but he was trying not to let that show. He was at work and he knew not to bring personal-life to work, even if a part of his personal life now tied itself to a certain someone in the office.   
  
“Morning,” Frank heard, snapping out of his thoughts to see Derek walking into the kitchen. He smiled, not really in the mood for conversations today, he couldn’t let it show either. He went to stand near the coffee machine, hoping and praying to God that Derek wasn’t going to attempt to take any coffee before him, “You alright?”   
  
“Yeah, I’m good,” Frank lied, he knew that it was easier to tell Derek that he was okay rather than going into why he hadn’t wanted to get out of bed this morning. Avoiding it and partially going into denial was so much easier. He smiled at Derek, hiding the truth, Frank grabbed the pot, pouring the caffeinated elixir into his coveted ‘Indiana Jones’ mug.    
  
“Good weekend?” Derek asked, going through the usual Monday morning work place chit chat that he always did, except he was doing it on a Tuesday, having had the day off yesterday. Frank was used to this though. It was like general office banter everywhere.   
  
“Yeah,” Frank nodded, sipping on his coffee, thankful for the caffeine he was now putting into his body. And the answer was done; the morning ritual of questioning was complete and everyone could go about their business now. 

  
“I guessed you’d probably had a good weekend after I saw you on Saturday morning,” Derek spoke idly, pouring himself a coffee into his plain green mug. Frank looked at him with a frown, trying his best to feign confusion. It had to be a complete coincidence that Derek was mentioning the morning after a night where Frank had had sex with his boss. Derek was just making conversation; he wasn’t onto anything at all, “You looked wrecked but way too floaty and happy. Turning up to work in the same clothes I saw you in on Friday.”   
  
Frank’s cheeks went bright pink. Frank had remained on cloud nine for the majority of Saturday, his sore ass being the reminder of Gerard fucking him. He didn’t think that anyone would notice when he turned up in the same black pants, white shirt, and suspenders combo that he wore on Friday. Frank shrugged, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”    
  
“Oh, come on,” Derek gave Frank a knowing look, not falling for the bullshit answer he had been given, “It was so obvious, I just didn’t want to mention it in front of Gerard or anyone else.”   
  
Frank blushed, looking away from Derek, hoping that he really wasn’t  _ that  _ easy to read on Saturday morning. Gerard had been completely unreadable, dressed sharply in a suit as usual; he didn’t look like he had just rolled out of bed after sex. Frank, however, must have looked questionable if Derek ‘Mary Jane’ Zanetti had picked up on it.   
  
“So, a good night was had, huh?” Derek winked at him, making Frank look away, trying to hide the blush that gave away his answer. Of course, it had been a good night. The day had started off good, too, but it was just the shit that got sandwiched in between that brought Frank down. Gerard however had been the perfect distraction: the perfect and irresistible sex God that Frank had had between his thighs. His whole view on sex had been completely ripped apart and pieced back together in a whole new way. Frank had never known about the wonders of being a bottom, just how good it felt to actually receive instead of giving. Gerard had shone a whole new light onto Frank that left him speechless and completely taken aback.   
  
“It was alright.” Frank shrugged casually, trying not to give away how fucking peachy he was over what had happened. 

  
“So, you and lover-boy rekindled the romance?” Derek suggested, making Frank frown at his words, his head jerking back as he swallowed a harsh sip of coffee.   
  
“What’re you talking about?”   
  
“You and… What’s his name? Your boyfriend with all the patterns and flowers.” Derek answered, making Frank realize that he had completely the wrong end of the stick. At least Derek hadn’t somehow worked out what had actually happened over the weekend.   
  
“Ryan?” Frank said his name, the word feeling alien on his tongue after having not talked about him for a month. Derek clearly had no idea that they had broken up. Frank snorted, “You think I was with Ryan?”   
  
“Weren’t you?” Derek queried, looking confused, “I know you guys were having trouble in paradise, but I thought you two had patched things up. Hence the whole ‘turning up to work looking like you buttered the biscuit.”

“What?”

“Ooh, biscuits,” Derek muttered under his breath and he set his coffee down, bending to open one of the cabinets, scanning the contents. Frank watched Derek rifled through the wheat-thins and the boxes of bland cereal, quirking an eyebrow as Derek muttered about wanting a snack. He pouted, closing the small door before he stood up and pulled a small silver-foil packet from his pocket. He ripped it open, stuffing an entire Oreo into his mouth with a happy hum. Frank’s eyebrows rose in surprise, sipping his coffee when Derek spoke, “You didn’t take a trip to Pound Town?”

“What? Where?” Frank frowned as Derek picked up his mug, dipping an Oreo into his coffee.

“Jeez, square.” Derek snorted, “I mean ‘sex’, new kid.” 

Frank went pink and looked down, “Oh, uh…”

“Well?"   
  
“No, I wasn’t with Ryan,” Frank said, shaking his head, “We broke up about a month ago.”   
  
“Shit, Frank,” Derek hissed, chewing through his third cookie in less than two minutes, “I just thought- Fuck, I’m so sorry.”   
  
“Don’t be,” Frank waved a hand at him, “It’s fine. I’m better off without him anyway.”   
  
“So, you met someone else?” Derek raised an eyebrow, and a quirk of a knowing smile, at him. So far from the truth but so spot-on with the fact that Frank had actually got laid, “Please tell me that it wasn’t just Krispy Kreme that did some creaming this weekend.”   
  
Frank opened his mouth to answer, thinking something up in his head, but whatever he came up with didn’t seem believable. Derek would probably see through whatever he told him, thinking that he was hiding something. Plus the person that had walked into the kitchen sent Frank’s brain to a halt, slamming on the brakes so hard he was sure he had cerebral whiplash.   
  
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Gerard said brightly, looking between Derek and Frank while he grabbed his usual black work mug from the dish-rack, “How are we all doing this morning?”   
  
“Not too bad,” Derek answered, drinking more of his coffee while Frank just stood in complete silence, looking into his mug, wishing that he could just dive in and hide from the awkward situation.   
  
“How are you this morning, Frank?” Gerard turned, watching Frank who was trying to hide the pink tinge on his cheeks. Frank swallowed as the memories flooded back, replacing every possible answer he had been trying to think of to say to Derek.   
  
“I’m g-good,” He stammered out, trying to hide his face behind his mug while he took a long drink, hoping that Gerard wasn’t going to hang around for too long. The air was thick with tension that Frank swore he could easily cut it with a knife. The way Gerard was looking at him, it was enough to make Frank’s stomach knot up. His heart hammered in his chest, much like it had done the other night. Not quite the same, but still, Gerard looking at him like that was enough to make Frank want to drop to his knees and give himself to his boss in front of Derek. The two of them now had a secret that no one in the office could know about, even though Frank wished that he could admit to someone that he was rather smitten. Gerard turned to look at Derek, giving Frank a moment to breathe.   
  
“I hope I’m not interrupting something here,” Gerard said, sensing himself that the air was a little different in the kitchen, “I only came in to get some coffee.”   
  
“Don’t worry,” Derek reassured him with a smile, “I’d just been asking Frank what he got up to over the weekend.”   
  
“Really?” Gerard conversed while pouring himself some coffee, his voice a perfectly feigned innocence of which Frank was envious. Gerard stirred sweetener into his coffee, “How was your weekend, boy?”   
  
Frank wanted the ground to swallow him up then. If it wasn’t bad enough that Derek was trying to stick his nose in, Gerard was now coming across like he knew nothing about what had happened between them. He was doing it on purpose like he was trying to get a reaction from Frank. Or maybe testing him to see if he let slip.   
  
“Pretty sure someone got lucky over the weekend,” Derek added in a sing-song, making Frank cough into his mug. Gerard turned, putting one foot over the other, leaning against the kitchen counter, getting in on the conversation. This clearly wasn’t the kind of conversation to even have in front of someone's boss, let alone a boss with which Frank had swapped fluids. Frank really felt like he was internally flailing, not knowing how to answer or what to add in.

  
“I never said that I did.” Frank panicked, trying to cover himself even though Gerard was looking at him knowingly. 

  
“Did you?” Derek asked, scratching at one of his eyes, stretching his jaw before he took a sip of coffee. Frank knew that he was as high as a kite, like he usually was in the mornings and again after lunch. He had no idea how Derek could work when he was drugged up to that extent. It did explain why he was also constantly snacking, too. Derek always had some sort of trail-mix or chip in hand. 

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t just admit it at work.” Frank wondered why Gerard wasn’t saving him from this embarrassment. Did he enjoy watching Frank squirm over Derek's need-to-know? Gerard had nothing to worry about because Frank knew to keep his mouth shut. Frank glanced at Gerard, hoping that he would throw him a limb, but he never did. Frank saw the slight nod Gerard gave him from behind his mug. Clearly he had said the right thing. If only Gerard would step in to help, stop him from having to cope with Derek all by himself.   
  
“Fine, whatever,” Derek responded flatly, realizing that Frank wasn’t going to dish the dirt, and as he left, he added, “I was only making conversation with you. You don’t have to get all high-and-mighty over it.”   
  
Frank immediately breathed a sigh of relief when Derek was out of earshot, setting his mug of coffee down on the counter. He leaned back, running his hands through his hair while Gerard kept an eye on him. He looked up at the tall man who was lounging casually beside him, “Thanks for saving me.”   
  
“Oh, I was implicitly sure that you didn’t need any saving,” Gerard told him, smoothing a hand down the black jacket he was wearing, picking off a piece of lint before flicking it away, “You held your own very well with Derek.”   
  
“Would have been nice for you to step in and save me from that,” Frank muttered, drinking more of his coffee, breaking eye contact from Gerard, “Y’know, clearly you could see I was uncomfortable.”   
  
“I’m pretty sure you can hold your own, even in the most uncomfortable of situations,” Gerard said cryptically. The way he spoke making Frank’s stomach plummet. The feeling he had gotten so used to, only more intense now after they had been together. Frank swallowed when Gerard stepped closer to him in the kitchen, mouth going dry because Gerard looked beyond gorgeous today and Frank was having a hard time holding it together in his head. Remembering how Gerard had implied that there would be ‘another time’. How Frank wanted it, wanted Gerard, even when he looked serious. That was a look that made Frank’s toes curl in his work shoes, losing complete control over any decent thought in his head.   
  
“I, uh,” Frank started, frowning to himself. He wanted to bring up what had happened between them in the most discreet of ways. He hoped that what Gerard had done to him wasn’t just a ‘pity fuck’ because he had been sad and couldn’t stop crying. He had no idea why he was hoping that his boss was going to want something more with him when he knew that ‘workplace’ relationships didn’t exactly pan out, but this was different. Or at least it felt different to him. He drained his mug as though it were a shot of tequila, hoping for a smidgen of Dutch courage before he spoke, “I actually wanted to talk to you about the, uh, the other night.”   
  
“What about it?” Gerard asked, his tone so inclined and inflected with nonchalance as though he had no clue to the subject of Frank’s statement.    
  
“Well…” Frank started, feeling anxious but at the same time, he knew that he shouldn’t have been nervous. Yes, there was the possibility that what happened between them was nothing more than a ‘pity fuck’, but Frank swore that there was more to it. He wanted there to be more to it because he really fucking liked the guy. They connected in some way even without sex. Gerard got Frank’s weird humor and they often shared conversations that had Fran in stitches after work, they definitely had chemistry between them and now Frank knew they were physically compatible. 

“Well?”   
  
“I wanna talk about what happened on Friday because, well, I don’t know about you...but stuff like that doesn’t tend to just happen to me,” He carried on, keeping an eye on the kitchen doorway just in case anyone came in, “And it happened-  _ We  _ happened and I just- I wanna know what it means. Wouldn’t you want to know if it happened to you?”   
  
“What I really want to know right now,” Gerard spoke once Frank had finished, “Is why you're still here.”    
  
Frank blinked dumbly, shocked about how Gerard had pretty much ignored what he had said. Gerard had glazed over the small moment in the kitchen where Frank had dared to open up his heart just a fraction. Frank opened his mouth to say something, try and bring Gerard back on track, but it all kind of died inside of him. His confidence waned, and the fact that Gerard just brushed it away so easily, it knocked him back a bit, wondering if he had just picked the wrong time to bring it up.   
  
“I-I don’t understand,” Frank whispered, looking at Gerard, puzzled. He was here because he had to be here; that was how ‘work’ worked. Gerard looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Frank swallowed, “I’m here to work, sir?”   
  
Gerard rolled his eyes, shaking his head, “Have you forgotten what was happening today?”   
  
Of course, Frank hadn’t forgotten what was happening today. That was the whole reason why Frank was down in the dumps with a constant rain cloud over his head. Today was the day of Jamia’s funeral. It was one of the reasons why Frank had dressed in his black suit, paying respects from afar because, for one thing, he knew he wasn’t strong enough to even consider going to the funeral, and also, he was pretty sure that he wasn’t welcome. Having not been one of Jamia’s parent’s favorites, he hadn’t received an invite to the service. He had only heard about it through social media; he knew where it was happening and what time it was happening. God knows why Frank had even mentioned it to Gerard in the first place when he found out on Saturday but, in a concoction of emotions and word vomit, he told him. Now here he was, reminding Frank of the fact.   
  
“No way I could forget,” Frank sighed, washing his mug, “I know what’s happening today.”   
  
“So, are you going?” Gerard queried, checking the time on his watch, “You need to leave now if you want to get to the service on time.”   
  
“Yeah,” Frank trailed off, drying his hands, “I think it’s probably better if I just pay my respects from a distance, sir.”   
  
“Frank, you have to go,” Gerard responded, his voice abhorred, “Don’t you think it would be rude to not go? Not pay your respects to your dear friend?”   
  
“Trust me, if I was wanted at the funeral, and I was strong enough to go through with it, I would go,” Frank reassured Gerard, turning to face his boss, “But, I’m not wanted there and I know very fucking well that I wouldn’t cope with it. Unless you want me coming back an emotional wreck, having been told to leave the moment I’m spotted by her witch of a mother.”   
  
“Then you go and stand at the back. Pay your respects to your friend,” Gerard told him, finishing his coffee in one mouthful, “I will go with you if you want.”   
  
“What?” Frank stuttered out, his eyes wide. He must have misheard.   
  
“I will go with you to the funeral. I will be there for you if it gets too much, okay?” Gerard clarified quickly, “You cannot miss this because I, for one, know that you will regret it later on.”   
  
“You sure about that?”    
  
“Just get your coat and meet me at my car,” Gerard instructed firmly, “We don’t want to be late now, do we?”   
  
“No, sir,” Frank answered, already feeling his emotions starting to build up inside of him. Getting through today without going to the funeral was going to be hard enough for Frank, but now he was going. He had no idea how he was going to cope, even if he did have Gerard by his side to help him through it.   


~   
  
All the while Frank sat next to Gerard in his car, he kept telling himself in his head that he was going to be strong enough to do this, especially seeing as he wasn’t doing this alone. The little voice that kept telling him that he wasn’t going to be able to do it. This was going to be the biggest mistake he had made.   
  
“Are you okay?” Gerard asked, snapping Frank out of his daze, pulling himself from staring aimlessly out of his window, watching all the scenery go past as they drove through Englewood toward the Trinity Lutheran Church where the service was being held.   
  
“I’m good.” Frank lied, not wanting to open up; that was a dangerous thing to do when the barrier that was holding his emotions back was already paper-thin. Weakening more and more the closer they got to the church. His eyes were already prickling with tears, threatening to spill over.   
  
“Why do I find that hard to believe?” Gerard commented, looking at Frank from over the sunglasses he had put on, eyeing him when he turned.   
  
“Because we’re on our way to a funeral,” Frank said pointedly, “I really don’t think I can do this.”   
  
“I know you can. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit,” Gerard spoke confidently, giving Frank a soft and knowing smile. He didn’t return it, finding it hard to believe that he was what Gerard claimed, He looked out of the window as they went passed a Country Club, his eyes glancing to the left when Gerard spoke again in earnest, “Plus, I am here for you, boy.”   
  
“You didn’t have to come.”   
  
“And if I didn’t come then you wouldn’t have altogether,” Gerard responded, “You would have stayed in the office, missing out on saying goodbye to your friend.”   
  
Frank ignored what Gerard said when he saw that they were coming up to the church, the Tween Tot nursery was on Frank’s left and he let out a whimper, remembering that it was one of the options that he had helped Jamia research on for her baby when she had to go back to work. His heart sunk in his chest because there was a part of him that hoped that the car journey wouldn’t end. Gerard’s driver pulled the car into the lot at the side of the church, parking in an available space in the corner. Frank really wasn’t feeling okay just turning up to a funeral when he wasn’t even invited, with his boss who had nothing to do with Jamia. He was so sure that they were going to stick out like sore thumbs at the back of the church. Part of him wanted to stop Gerard when he unclipped his seatbelt, tell him not to get out of the car, but it was too late. Frank didn’t act and Gerard had already climbed out, shutting his door before walking round to Frank’s side, opening and holding it open for him.   
  
“Good job you didn’t wear one of your brighter suits today,” Frank commented as he reluctantly got out, watching Gerard shut the door behind him while he pushed his hands into his pants pockets, trying to stop himself from fiddling in an attempt to calm his nerves and emotions.   
  
“I’ll have you know that a lot of funerals don’t have to follow such somber rules,” Gerard spoke, buttoning up his jacket before following Frank towards the quaint face-brick church that also shared its premises with the Montessori House School. Gerard adjusted his glasses, his auburn hair shining in the morning sun and fluttering with the chilly breeze, “If it is requested then people can wear bright colors, treating the funeral as more of a celebration of life than a loss.”   
  
“Swear to God, you have an answer for everything,” Frank muttered under his breath, shaking his head. They got up to the white doors of the church and Frank stood there because they were then minutes late. Standing out in the cold seemed like a much better idea than walking in to have however many mourners all turning around to see who had turned up late. Gerard was already opening the door, waving a hand for Frank to go in but he froze on the concrete steps, his knees shaking when he heard the people inside singing a mournful hymn. He stared at his shoes, “I don’t know if I can do this, sir…”   
  
“Of course, you can,” Gerard reassured him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “I’m here for you, too. Come on, before you miss more of her service.”   
  
The two of them entered the church quietly, taking note of how they had walked in while everyone was standing and singing Amazing Grace. All of a sudden, Frank felt like he was completely out of his depth. Every fiber in his body was telling him to turn on his feet and walk out, but Gerard was behind him, edging him closer to the back pew. One hand on Frank’s arm, holding him while they finally slid into the seats. Frank immediately sat down, not feeling strong enough to remain standing while everyone else sang. His chest felt tight, restricting him in the most painful way possible, he kept his head down in case anyone looked around and saw him. Gerard sat down on his right, handing him a memorial card that he couldn’t even bring himself to inspect. His eyes were stinging so much, Frank screwed them shut, trying to breathe while he bowed his head down.    
  
When Frank felt like he was strong enough, having taken a moment to compose himself, he looked up. He had no idea who had actually been invited to the funeral. Not many people were there, a small handful closer to the front. Thankfully, no one had spotted them. Gerard seemed more incognito than Frank, given that he hadn’t taken his sunglasses off since they had entered the church. He watched over the small service, having set the memorial card down next to him on the pew. He took to fiddling with his hands, trying to keep himself calm while the hymn eventually came to an end and everyone sat back down.   
  
Frank really did hope that no one would turn around and see him now that they weren’t focussing on singing. He gazed over the backs of heads in front of him, seeing if he could see anyone that he recognized. Of course, he spotted Jamia's mother and father right at the front beside her younger brother Evan. The whole family sat close together on the front pew, other family members all behind them. Close family friends. Friends of Jamia's.   
  
He hated how the whole family seemed to be against him when he had never done anything wrong. He had never upset their daughter in any way and if anything, he had probably been there for her more times than her own relatives. He had been cast aside, left out, and looked down upon because he had been this ‘punk brat’ the moment that he met Jamia and became friends with her. They had never liked him much because of the way he appeared. Their daughter becoming friends with a guy whose jeans needed serious repairs done on the knees, tattoos, and piercings to add insult to injury. They honestly had judged his book by its cover and never bothered to find out that the reason Jamia had become such good friends with him. Jamia had told them time and time again that he was a sweetheart underneath all the tattoos and piercings and his ‘shitty garbage’ punk appearance.    
  
Frank was done looking over who had turned up to pay their respects to Jamia, having only spotted a few relatives and friends of Jamia's that he knew, he felt okay with hiding at the back until the service was over. It was probably going to be a good idea if the two of them ducked out before the service ended and everyone poured out for the burial. Frank already knew that there was no way, in the name of absolute fuck, that he was going to be strong enough to watch his best friend being buried. The idea alone made his heart ache and his chest grow tighter. He had even avoided looking towards the coffin at the front with the sheaf of lilies sitting atop it. Bringing himself to look at the coffin was too much; proof that she was actually gone. A life taken too soon; she had just given birth to her beautiful daughter. It wasn’t right and Frank couldn’t get over how unfairly she had been taken away. That tore him up from the inside out, making him inhale shakily, trying so hard to hold it together while Jamia's mother stood to say a few words, barely holding it together.   
  
Frank screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out what was being said because, as much as he was here to pay his respects and say his goodbye in his own quiet way at the back of the church, hearing someone talk about how Jamia was loved so much, it ricocheted through him. He had loved her so much. She was his best friend who had got him through so much. She had always been there for him as he had for her. This was so unfair and Frank couldn’t even stop himself when he thought back to one of the last times she had been there for him.


	26. Who Owns That Many Scarves, Anyway?

_ Frank couldn’t help it. He honestly didn’t know why it had bothered him so much, two weeks down the line, and two weeks of living with Jamia had settled him to a degree. But, this had gotten to him like an itch on his back that he couldn’t reach, which was never usually how Frank saw things. This had really bothered him to the point that, for once in his life, he took charge of the situation. All it was, was that Jamia had spilled some sugar on the kitchen counter after she had made herself some tea before she went out to do shopping, but Frank had come into the kitchen and spotted it. Such a simple accident that could easily be wiped up and from which he could move on, but no. The small spill had triggered something inside of Frank’s head, after so many years of living with a clean-freak, and after the short amount of time he had been apart from said person, it did something to him. Ryan’s need to clean suddenly became Frank’s need to clean. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ At first, it started off simple. Frank found all of the necessary products under the sink and had used them to mop up the spill, but that hadn’t felt like enough. All of a sudden Frank found an urge in him that was so unlike his usual relaxed demeanor. He never found himself being so anal about cleaning as Ryan had, but being without him and getting over their break-up this way, Frank had hidden certain parts of his feelings towards it. Two weeks of not being with said person suddenly hit Frank and the urge took over him faster than he could understand why he was doing what he was doing. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The counter ended up sparkling because Frank went out of his way to move everything on it, cleaning underneath everything, even choosing to open up the toaster and empty out all the crumbs that had probably been there for God knows how long. Frank then moved on swiftly, tidying and disinfecting as he had never done before. He could cope with some mess, not that Jamia’s house was messy, it was clean, but Frank found himself almost getting into the ‘Ryan’ zone. Finding a mess anywhere and everywhere, like the time Ryan moaned at him for leaving a ring of coffee on the counter one time. Frank found himself internally grumbling about how Jamia’s kettle needed to be immaculate, the stove-top too, but the way it had been wiped down left it smeared with watermarks. Frank couldn’t bring himself to leave it alone, wiping it down furiously, buffing it up to the point that he swore he would be able to see his face in it. It had to be clean. Everything had to be apple-pie order because if it wasn’t, it would tear him apart more than his break up with Ryan. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ And that was the whole reason why Frank had taken to cleaning Jamia’s house even though she hadn’t asked him to do it. It felt like something was missing from him; a whole part of his life suddenly torn out, leaving a gaping hole deep in his chest which he refused to question. Frank refused to believe that the reason he was being like this was that there was a piece of his heart that really did miss the man that had been his high school sweetheart. Frank didn’t want to believe that he actually missed the fucktard who had broken him down so much. But clearly there was a part of him that was calling out and letting itself be known because Frank was cleaning more than he had ever done. The tiles in the kitchen, the tabletop, the chairs. He even took to scouring the inside of the microwave even though it was already spotless.  _ Not clean enough _ , he thought,  _ this needs to be ‘clean’ clean _. ‘Ryan’ clean. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Like a Duracell bunny on speed, Frank powered his way around the house, cleaning from top to bottom, dusting, and bleaching whatever he could in the process. He was vacuuming to the point that he actually moved furniture, making sure that he didn’t miss anything because missing something would leave him irritated to the point that he would consider starting the whole process all over again. If it meant that everything would be immaculate then he would do it if he had to.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ A part of him felt like everything was still messy, even though it wasn’t. The ‘Ryan’ niggle in him reared its head so incessantly that when Frank moved everything back into place in Jamia's sitting room, he made sure that the coffee table was in line with the rug. He went full ‘Monica Geller’ on the situation, Frank made sure that the sofa lined up with the coffee table perfectly, also central to the whole room, and the TV in front of both things. He wandered over to the bookcase and rearranged them all after dusting and wiping down everything. There really was no need for it, even as Frank sorted out all of Jamia's pregnancy and baby books, putting them all together in one neat section, but he couldn’t stop himself. Something in him was keeping him going as he moved around the house like a man possessed. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Upstairs wasn’t too bad, he didn’t feel like his skin was crawling at the idea of everything being a complete mess. He knew that away from where he had initially gotten triggered had probably helped, but Frank still found himself cleaning, having to go downstairs to retrieve the vacuum-plug adapter when the cord wouldn’t reach anymore. He plugged it in when he got back upstairs, only to carry on with his furious need to pick up every speck of dust and dirt that might have been lurking in amongst the weave of the carpet. He couldn’t stop, despite the raging pulse in his chest and the soft whimper that would leave his throat when he thought about stopping. Frank was sure that if he stopped then whatever was really bothering him was going to consume him. He couldn’t let that happen, he pushed his bedroom door open with the vacuum, continuing to clean as he went around the house. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Frank switched off the vacuum for the time being when he finished in his bedroom, pushing it to one side, he groaned at himself when he looked at his bed. It was a mess and clearly he hadn’t bothered to make it like he would have to, thanks to Ryan drilling his need for tidiness into his head. For once, he hadn’t had to control his actions in fear of being yelled at. For once his bed was a complete and utter mess, the comforter was thrown back from when he had gotten out of bed, the bottom sheet half off the bed because for the past few nights, Frank had slept quite restlessly. The sight of the unmade bed had his blood boil under the surface and he bit on his thumbnail, chewing on it as his hands itched to fix it. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Frank threw the comforter away from the bed, tossing the pillows so he could straighten up. He remembered how Ryan had thrown a fit and had dragged him into the bedroom to physically show him how to make a bed. Fran had stood and watched every hand swipe and every throw of a sheet, scowling at Ryan’s need for neatness. Every single instruction that had been drilled into his head for all those years now felt like a lifeline to him. Frank began to tug at the bottom sheet, trying to fold it properly so he could tuck it back under the mattress, but something caught him completely off guard. The memory of Ryan teaching him how to make a bed came screaming back quicker than he thought it would. He looked down at the tiny wet-spot on the sheet that he was trying to sort out and thought it was a stain, but he had been fooled. He had caused the stain when he blinked, letting the first tears fall from his eyes while he sniffed back hard, standing up to push the back of his hands against his eyes. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ How could something as simple as making a bed make him burst into tears? Frank didn’t want to understand it because if he did, then it would be like opening up Pandora's box. Everything would come out and Frank knew that he wasn’t quite strong enough to deal with everything he had been avoiding since the day that he left Ryan. He wasn’t missing him, Frank wanted to believe that the empty feeling in his chest resembled something very similar, or the tears that gave away how he wasn’t coping at all. He kept telling himself that he was okay as he wiped his eyes, cleared his nose before continuing with the task of making the bed. Once he was done with that, placing the duvet back over the pillows he put back down, he realized that he had been crying the entire time. His emotions were unraveling and there was very little he could do to stop them.  _

_ He hoped that continuing with cleaning would help, but it really didn’t. Even when he got to the bathroom and filled up a bucket with water to clean the floor, he really couldn’t stop the pain or the tears that were now pouring down his face, every small noise that left him while he sobbed was echoing in the small room. He couldn’t stop because every part of him told him to keep going. The bathroom floor was clean, but to Frank it was dirty and it had to be dirty because if it wasn’t, then he had nothing to do other than realize that he was still so very broken. He felt like scrubbing the floor was the best thing for him, after finding a brush to do it with, but it wasn’t helping him. It was something for him to do, but his heart still ached and his tears still dissolved into the soapy water on the floor. Frank missed Ryan, that was a given, but he didn’t want to believe that he was that weak. _

_ Frank hadn’t realized that he was no longer alone in the house after some time. Jamia had come home, finding her place spotless beyond belief. She knew that she had left the place tidy, but even she could tell that Frank had been cleaning. The smell of bleach burned her nose from the moment she had opened the front door. She stepped into the living room to find that the sofa was closer to the TV than she usually had it, her bookshelf had been rearranged and the sugar spill she had forgotten to clean up was now gone from the kitchen. She followed the sounds that drew her upstairs, the grunts and sobs and the faint ‘swishing’ that sounded like a scrub-brush. She pushed the bathroom door open and found Frank on his knees, furiously scrubbing her bathroom floor while he cried his eyes out. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “What are you doing?” Frank heard instantly, stopping mid-scrub to look up and see Jamia looking down at him with a mildly panicked confusion. He didn’t even shield how he looked, his red, swollen eyes and tear-stained face on display, his fingers looked pruned and raw, his fingernails had been chewed off and his hair was damp- Sweat or water, she didn’t know. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Wh-What does it l-look like I’m do-doing,” Frank answered brokenly, turning his attention back to the floor, carrying on from where he left off, scrubbing harder than he had been, to stop the tears despite knowing that there was no way they were stopping anytime soon. He was full-flow now; ugly crying, snot coming out of his nose, his whole face probably wetter than the floor, “I’m- I’m cleaning.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “You’re crying,” Jamia stated the obvious, coming into the bathroom before trying to get down onto the floor with him. She gripped onto the side of the bath and knelt down in front of Frank, who was avoiding eye contact with her. She was suddenly grateful for prenatal yoga, in the back of her mind, but she focused more on the fact that he swore that the floor was dirty. It had to be cleaned and he had to finish this or he would feel like he had failed. She grew worried, “Frank, look at me.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I’m busy.” He told her, not even looking up when his words came out like a desperate plea for it all to stop. He was on a carnival ride without brakes and no one seemed to be hearing his screams, too busy having fun around him to notice how he was absolutely terrified. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Frank, what is going on?” Jamia pushed, trying to reach out a hand to still him, but he refused to be stopped. She could not stop him, or the pain he felt in his chest would be real.  _

_ “No-Nothing is going o-on w-w-with me,” He insisted, going into denial about how he was actually crying whilst cleaning, “I ju-just w-wanted to clean. Your h-h-house was dirty.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “No, it wasn’t. I cleaned this morning before I went out.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “W-Well, I w-wanted to clean.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Frank, just stop for one second,” Jamia insisted, seeing how he looked so broken and hurt, but he was a stubborn bastard and even Jamia knew that. She watched him scrub the same tile on her floor intensely. He wasn’t usually one for cleaning to the point of practically removing the pattern from the floor. The man had barely cried since the first week of moving in, he had closed up when it came to anything about his break up, so Jamia felt like she knew what had pushed Frank to his breaking point. She edged forward, “Frank, please.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He refused to stop, ignoring Jamia, he plunged the brush back into the bucket he had by his side, pulling it back out before he continued to clean the same spot again, sniffing hard, his eyes screwing shut for a second as a small sob left him. He gritted his teeth, feeling his fingers blistered under the tight hold on the bristled besom. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Frank, just give- Hey!” Jamia gasped when Frank batted her hand away from him roughly. She had only wanted to take the brush away from him. get him to stop for a second so they could talk, but he had refused point-blank, pushing her away before he carried on “Frank, give me the brush-” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “No.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Frank, just stop for one fucking second,” Jamia spoke sternly, finally getting a hand on his own, “Frank, listen to me-” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “No!” He snapped, trying to free himself from Jamia's grip, but she had a hold of him, stopping him, the bristles on the brush being pushed down and bent against the floor as they fought over it, “I ne-..ed to clean. The fl-floor is dirty.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “The floor is fine,” Jamia reassured him, trying to take the brush before he pulled back. Her grip slipped and Frank was finally free of her. Unfortunately, he forgot how close he had the bucket to him, hitting it with his elbow, causing it to tip and the contents of it spilling out onto the floor, “Fuck, Frank, for fuck sake…” _ _   
_ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Wh-Why did you st-stop me?” Frank shot his question out, finally looking back at Jamia with pain in his eyes. Her heart broke to see her friend like this, he was hurting so much. Even if the floor had been dirty at one point, it was now as the water spread across the tiles, soaking into Frank's jeans as he remained kneeling on the bathroom floor, “L-Look what you d-d-did. The floor is dirty a-again.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “It’s not dirty,” Jamia reassured him again, finally having his undivided attention. She watched his eyes fill with tears and she tried to fight her own reaction, “Frank, please… What is going on with you? What’s happened?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I just w-wanted to clean,” Frank told her, “C-Can I not just do something nice for you? Clean your fucking house… Nez, I just wanted to… I can’t fucking… Oh, God…” Frank broke down, the weight of everything in his head became too much. Every thought he had been trying to ignore while he cleaned became too much. Every memory that made him realize that he might actually have missed Ryan came flooding back. He hated feeling like this, he didn’t want to miss Ryan. He wanted to hate him for the way he had treated him over the past six years, but Frank could never 'hate'. That was too strong of an emotion for him. No matter what, he knew that he would never fully hate Ryan. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Baby…” Jamia spoke softly, watching Frank dissolve on the bathroom floor, his pained sobs echoed in the tiled room as his hands came up to cover his face, He kneeled on the sodden floor, not even caring that his jeans had soaked up most of the water that he had been using, his knees ached and throbbed, his feet were numb under his weight. Jamia moved forward carefully, “Hey, shh… Frank, what’s wrong?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Frank didn’t answer. The force of his emotional outburst was too strong for him to even consider answering. His throat felt tight from crying, like he was choking while the tears fell and his whole face contorted with pain behind his hands. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I d-don’t know,” He finally answered, revealing his face, only to look up at the ceiling, “Nez, I do-don’t fuck-fucking know what’s going on with me. I th-thought I was fine… I’ve been feeling fine all w-week and then it just, it came over me and I needed s-something to stop me from thinking.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Thinking about what?” Jamia asked, trying to get into Frank's head. Frank refused to admit it to himself, he refused to think about it any further because he had given in for a split second and the pain that made the tears spill over again, a choked sobbing forcing its way out of his throat, he squeezed his eyes shut. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Frank, please talk to me,” Jamia spoke, resting a hand on Frank’s thigh to comfort him, “You’re scaring me.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Why do I miss him?” Frank finally let the question out, a weight lifting from him, but also at the same it pressed down harder. It hurt so much to finally admit what had pushed him to clean so aggressively in the first place. The sad truth that Frank had not wanted to admit, “Why, after everything he did to me, and how he made me feel, do I still miss him?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I’m sorry.” She whispered as she wrapped an arm around Frank to comfort him. He had shattered more after finally admitting what was bothering him. Shaking against her, Jamia tried her best to hold it together just so she could be there for him. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Frank wiped his constantly-blocked, and runny, nose on the back of his wrist, “I wish I wasn’t talking about him but, hey, it looks like I am. The asshole that took three-quarters of his dick and shoved it into his personality. Him and his stupid scarves. Who owns that many scarves, anyway?" _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Sweetie, it’s okay to miss him,” Jamia told Frank, watching him cry and sniffle. He had cried in front of her, but nothing like the gut-wrenching, heartbreaking crying that made you want to wrap your arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. The crying she had walked in on a few minutes prior. “You spent six years with him; it’s completely normal for you to feel this way. He was your life for so long… You removed him from your life and you’re struggling, I take it?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Frank nodded weakly, already understanding why he had cleaned like he was possessed. The sad realization that he was only doing it because he missed the way that Ryan would nag him to clean and keep the house in order, and literally everything else about him that he had hated two weeks ago. He shouldn’t have missed him because Frank was done with him, but he couldn’t stop his heart from aching, feeling like it was splitting in half in his chest. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I just w-wish that I didn’t feel like this,” Frank admitted, resting his head on Jamia's shoulder while she held him, “I mean, it’s been t-two weeks since I left him. I thought that I would have felt stuff like this right after the break-up. Why is it affecting me now? Why do I all of a sudden miss him?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Because you’re human,” Jamia sighed, wishing that she had a better answer to give to him, “I was the same after Jimmy left me. After what he did, I still missed the bastard like crazy.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I don’t w-want to feel th-this,” Frank admitted, keeping his eyes closed in an attempt to calm down, also trying his best to ignore how he felt completely pathetic. He sucked in a shaky breath, “I j-just want it to st-stop.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “It will,” Jamia sniffed, fighting back the tears that were already threatening to fall thanks to her pregnancy hormones, “Please trust me, Poptart, it’ll get better. It’ll get easier, you’ve just gotta get through all of this first. Yeah, you’re going to remember parts about your relationship that you probably enjoyed and that’s going to make you miss him. Yeah, you might think that if you get back with him then everything will be different and that is why you miss him, but it’s not. Frank, whatever you wanted Ryan to be, clearly he wasn’t. This sucks, I’m not going to sugarcoat because I would never bullshit you, but breakups suck.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Two weeks after a breakup?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “It’s different for everyone,” Jamia sighed, “Some people can move on in a week, others, it can take months before they feel like they have moved passed what happened to them.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I don’t want to be like this in an-another month’s time,” Frank admitted, putting his arm around Jamia now, grateful that she had found him, “I don’t w-want to miss him. I just want to go back to normal… Whatever that is. I don’t know with my-myself anymore.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Trust me, sweetie,” Jamia sniffed again, sitting on the bathroom floor with Frank, ignoring how her tights were starting to soak up some of the water, she began to cry, too. No control over why it started, and what she was crying over, she sniffed and grabbed a tissue from her pocket to wipe her nose, “It will get easier.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Frank looked at her with a puzzled frown, noticing the tears, “Hey, what's up? Hey, Nez, shh, why are you crying?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I don’t kno-ow,” Jamia wailed out, her already heightened emotions spiking more, making the whole moment of crying so much more, “I can’t co-control it at the moment, st-stupid hormones. You cry, I cry-” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Don’t make me cry more,” Frank pointed a finger at her, knowing full well that he was the kind of guy who was usually quite comfortable with his emotions; he wasn’t afraid to cry if he needed to and, right now, it wasn’t even a need. It was more of a natural reaction. Best friend cries, he cries too, “You know I can’t stop when you start.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “I’m s-sorry,” Jamia whimpered out, feeling Frank wrap his arms around her. Now his turn to comfort her even though he really needed her so much right now. She was there for him and of course Frank was always going to be there for her.  _ _   
_ _   
_ Frank felt arms on him, holding him, almost pulling him as he snapped out of his daydream. For a second he had forgotten where he was, almost like he had left his own body, but he came back into reality with a bump. He had been sobbing, his crying unabashedly for God knows how long.

“Frank, come on, we need to go,” The calming voice of reason that he heard over his own sobs, it came from the same person who had been holding him close. No one else at the funeral wanted him there so, of course, they weren’t going to comfort him. They were looking at him, staring at him, wondering why in the world he was even at the service, ruining it for everyone else. He was so grateful that one person still had his back; one person in his life who had a hold of him, picking him up from where he was seated, pulling him along, “Come on, you need some air.”   
  
“I can’t do this,” Frank admitted, his words finally sinking in for Gerard, who had been proven wrong. The best thing to do was to get him out of the church as quickly and as quietly as possible but Frank was making that rather difficult when he sniffled, “I can’t fucking-”   
  
“I know,” Gerard spoke soothingly, an arm wrapped around Frank, directing him towards the door they came through, “Let’s just go.”   
  
Frank had been all but ready to leave, not wanting to be there anymore because it was destroying him from the inside out. But something made him look around as the last goodbye because Jamia's coffin was up at the front, her photo next to it. Frank looked around to the front, his bottom lip wobbling, his whole frame shaking until he saw someone in the small crowd that had gathered for her funeral. That was when Frank saw red, every emotion that was pushing him to cry uncontrollably, it suddenly changed on a dime. He didn’t know exactly how to feel when he saw Jimmy standing there, looking at him like he was some sort of freak who had gone and gatecrashed this sad event.   
  
“Wh-What are you doing here?” Frank called out, not caring that he was making a scene, wriggling out of Gerard’s grip angrily, “ _ You _ got a fucking invite, the ex that cheated on her and broke her heart. The man who abandoned her and her unborn daughter. The man who didn’t even bother to make it to the birth. Did you get the voicemails she left you? Did you know your daughter was being born, did you care? Would you have bothered coming if you knew she was gonna fucking die!? I was the one picking up the pieces after you destroyed her,” Frank pointed a finger towards Jimmy, the fury bubbling under his skin and making his veins thrum with adrenalin, “I was the one helping her mend her life after you went and fucked it up! Did I get an invite? Fuck no. I guess ‘cheating scumbag’ falls higher on the list than her best friend.”   
  
“Frank, calm yourself down now,” Gerard spoke, the warning tone in his voice. There was no way he could calm down, he was seeing so much red. Frank was livid, his fists balling up, his whole chest swelling with anger before he tried to release. His whole body lunging forward for Jimmy, but unfortunately, not getting very far thanks to a Gerard grabbing hold of the back of his suit, the other hand on his chest, trying to reel him back in, “Frank, stop, now.”   
  
“Fuck you all.” Frank hissed out, pushing himself from Gerard. He didn’t need to be dragged out by his boss; he was more than happy to leave already. Frank couldn’t even bring himself to be in the same place as the family, and people, who didn’t even want him there. Frank had said his ‘goodbye’, he could say it whenever he wanted once she was laid to rest. He knew that right now he just needed to get out of there, wiping his eyes and nose on the sleeve of his suit, not caring about the telling off Gerard would give him for it.   
  
Frank pushed open the church doors, walking out into the car park where they had been not that long ago. Blinded by tears and anger, Frank needed to vent, he had his fists clenched so tightly, and he felt the need to hit something- Kick something, let out all of the anger in him that was sizzling under the surface. It was completely overriding how sad he had been before he saw Jimmy at the service. How could he have been there when Frank wasn’t even invited? How could this have happened at all? This wasn’t fair. Jamia was gone but Frank really didn’t want to accept that for a second. He just wanted to fume and blow up like a volcano, needing to take out how he felt on something. An oversized potted fern was the first thing he saw. Not wanting to take his anger out on anything that was close to where Gerard’s car was parked, Frank bit down on his lip, and a pained, angry noise left him, his frustrations and feelings finally venting when he stormed over to the plant and kicked it hard. Kicked it again. Again and again. Over and over as he snarled and grunted like a feral animal.   
  
“Stupid, fucking bush...bullshit fucking...plant,” Frank cursed with every kick, not caring about how he was scuffing up his work shoes in front of Gerard, who was watching him from a distance with his hands in his pockets. He let Frank vent because it was obvious that he needed a moment, even if the moment was probably going to end with him having a fractured foot. Frank shoved at the pot with his hands, “Asshole- Cocksucking. Fern!”   
  
It wasn’t enough- All that it was doing was giving Frank a sore foot, he still felt angry and still felt a concoction of emotions battling it out inside of his body. Tears were falling again, but he was furious that Jimmy was there instead of him. He leaned down and grabbed at a medium-sized rock that was near the edge of the car park. There was only one thing he could think of doing, leaving a mark because they had single-handedly decided to not even include him, He wanted to let it be known that he was pissed off, angry, upset, and so many other emotions all at once. He went to take aim at the nearest window on the church, but he stopped by a strong hand gripping his wrist, squeezing to the point that the rock fell from his grip.   
  
“I really don’t think that is a very good idea,” Gerard told Frank from behind him, still holding his wrist in case Frank decided to do something else. Gerard was right up against Frank, standing within his infuriated proximity, fingers still in a vice around Frank’s arm as he leaned in, “Church windows are irreplaceable and I really don’t think you would be able to afford to fix it.”   
  
It was at that moment, when Gerard stopped him, that Frank slowed down. Gerard had stopped his mind from racing and his actions from being damaging. His heart pounded in his chest and yet again, it all became too much. Having Gerard holding him, stopping him from doing something so stupid, Frank realized how he had lost control. In a moment of anger and aggression, he had vented, wanting to feel anything other than sadness. Frank felt the painful bubble forming in his chest as he dipped his head down. Gerard wrapped an arm around him when the first sob left his raw throat. He was leaning against Gerard when the tears fell again and he crumbled, gripping onto his boss’s jacket tightly while he was held.   
  
“Come on, dear boy,” Gerard spoke softly against Frank’s forehead, holding him while he shook, “Let’s get you out of here.”   
  
“P-Please,” Frank spoke against Gerard’s chest until they moved. Gerard kept an arm around him and Frank felt somewhat more in control as he was led toward the car. The older man opened his door and Frank climbed in obediently, not watching when Gerard shut the door for him. He wasn’t paying attention when Gerard got in next to him. Frank sat in his seat, zoned out, crying and whimpering when it all got too much for him again.    


“Cafe Angelique, Maurice. Follow Riveredge onto Piermont, it’s on the right. I think some coffee and a nice calm-down is in order before we go back into the office,” Gerard spoke, hoping to grab Frank’s attention, but he hadn’t at all. Frank was staring out of the window when they passed the small John B. Geissinger field. Frank knew they were in Tenafly now, way too close to Jamia’s house. He didn’t say anything, trying not to show how he had very little control over his emotions. He didn’t want Gerard to judge him or think less of him because he was crying yet again. He attempted to clean up his red and puffy face, “Frank, look at me, please.”   
  
Frank didn’t want to look at Gerard at all, but it didn’t stop the latter in the slightest. Frank looked down when he felt and heard his seatbelt being unclipped. Gerard had always been one for road and driving safety, but he ignored it when he wrapped an arm around Frank. He sighed softly, pulling him over, giving him the comfort that he so sorely needed. The hug to help him calm, like a comfort blanket that softly pressed a kiss to his forehead. Frank wept, letting it all out. He knew that he shouldn’t have come to the funeral. It had been such a stupid idea, but at least he had Gerard telling him that it was eventually going to be okay.


	27. And All He Needed was Seven Inches

Frank walked into the store the very next afternoon, the Wednesday lunch break had been set out for a very specific purpose. He had done a mental calculation in his head from his sordid flashback, stacking fingers on top of each other or measuring the side of his face and the little bit left over to figure it out. And all he needed was seven inches. Frank had realized that after he and Gerard had been together, that their one-night entanglement was most likely a sordid once-off, and that his sex-life was left in the dust yet again. Yet, Frank couldn’t shake the feeling inside of him that Gerard had awoken; the yearning ache to be filled one more time, and the time after that. And here he was now with his mental math somewhat in order, the image of Gerard burned into his mind, as he strolled through aisles upon aisles of toys that just weren’t right. He’d never done this before in his life and he felt so completely judged by the girl behind the counter eyeing him. Which is why he drove to the sex shop on the other side of town that he knew he would never ever go to again.

 _Seven inches_ , Frank repeated to himself, seeing them all go by in their boxes, all sorts of shapes and functions that didn’t interest him. He wanted real, he wanted heavy and obscene and far too realistic, and if it meant not eating for a week to buy it, he’d survive.

The shop he was in now was at least a semblance cleaner, and less sleazy than he had expected. It wasn’t dark and lit-in-red as he had thought. The floor was a simple black tile to match the black shelves and rails that aisled the place, the walls a dark burgundy with gold trim that added to the sexual energy charging up the place. Frank was surprised to see the quality of the products being sold, premium-looking boxes with minimal to no damage, and everything else wrapped in plastic. The outfits and bodywear in the corner all in their packages beneath the black vinyl show models. He didn’t even feel the need to put on the gloves he had sitting in his pocket for emergencies. Frank didn’t know what he had been expecting from the toy he wanted, but it wasn’t this level. Sure, it wasn’t going to be cellophane-wrapped cardboard and lotion like a bad DIY, but he’d seen what the local shop looked like down the road from his old job and he wouldn’t have gone in there in a protective bubble. He stopped suddenly, a word on one of the boxes catching his attention, making him swivel back to make sure he hadn’t been having a stroke.

“Ejaculating dildo?” Frank whispered softly, frowning in confusion, “How is that a thing?” He picked up the box and had a look at it, out of sheer curiosity, seeing the realistic-looking dildo and a disturbing syringe that was attached to it via a pipe.

“This can’t be real,” Frank turned, reading the description with vast amounts of intrigue, “For a dynamic and erotic sex toy, this dildo is for you. Me, really? Realistic squirting cock providing the uniquely stimulating sensation of ejaculation, eight inches. Realistic features including testicles, velvet-soft skin and the option to come. Wh-... Suction bottom for hands-free fun, you say?"Frank paused when a woman wandered behind him with one or two items in a black basket, his instinct had him look down as she passed before he continued reading under his breath,

“Simply inject with body-safe lubricant into included pump. Best used with Pop Lubricant, realistic semen-like lube. Oh, so you don’t even get the lube with it? What a jip. For seventy dollars? Fuck that.” Frank pulled a face similar to that of a grimace and set the box down carefully, making sure it was steady where it had been before he continued browsing, eyes scanning for a normal and ejaculate-free dildo. And then one caught his attention right at the bottom. It was simple, just what he wanted and not too expensive. He smiled sheepishly as he grabbed the box in his hands and straightened up, reading on the box.

“Flexible, super realistic seven-point-four-inch shaft with incredible life-like detail,” Frank scratched at his chin, noting the stubble that he needed to shave later on, as he read in a whisper, “Phthalate-free PVC, strong suction cup base for hands-free play and compatible with any ‘o’ ring strap-on harness. Twenty-six dollars is more where I’m at." Frank tucked the box under his arm as he sucked in a breath and continued wandering, stopping only one shelf over when he looked at the vast and astounding array of lube.

“There’s so many… What?” Frank scanned over the different types, surprised to find them assorted by function than by brand, “Water-based, oil-based, silicone-based, mixed-base, organic and vegan, arousing lube, flavored lube, sensitive lube, anal lube, warming lube, two in one massage lube, specialty lubes, fertility lubes, male masturbation lube… What the shit, I thought 'lube' was lube?” Frank looked down at the box under his arm, completely perplexed as to what he should now buy to go with it. He simply needed lube and his predicament could fall under many of the different types. He frowned, scanning through the names beneath the bottles yet again.

“Can I help you?” Someone asked, making Frank jump in surprise and launch back a step, yelping as the box dropped on the ground. He stared at the girl who had been behind the counter, obviously having seen his dismay etched and painted onto his face, “Do you need some help?”

“Well, I, uh- No.” Frank cleared his throat as he bent down, picking up his box before he sighed, “Yeah, I do. I lied.”

“Well, what are you looking for?” She looked at the lubes in front of them both as Frank inspected the box of his toy, ignoring the red tint to his face. He was an adult, dammit, he could ask for help with lube if he needed it.

“I- I mean, I’m getting this for myself so…” Frank chuckled awkwardly, holding up the dildo before dropping it down weakly, “I guess, you’re the expert.”

“If you’re going to use it for suction in the shower then I’d suggest something that isn’t water-based so it doesn’t run off, perhaps silicone-based.”

“I don’t have a shower where I live.” Frank offered, “So, uh, something for when I’m dry.”

“Well then, how about this dual mix,” She picked up a bottle, tucking a piece of her long lime-colored hair behind her ear when Frank decided to get a look at her. Her pale skin in a gorgeous contrast with her highlighter hair, her lips a dark purple and pierced many, many times, her one eye solid black and the other a rimmed-white. She held it up for him, “It’s anal-specific, water-based and peach-scented. It’s also on sale, only six dollars.”

“Yeah?” Frank frowned, taking it from her, “If- If that’s best.”

“Well, there’s a whole bunch but the peach smells the best, doesn’t smell like plain old lube, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Frank scrunched up his nose, knowing exactly the smell in question considering Ryan would allow nothing else but plain old lube inside of him, no smells, no tastes, no fun. He saw the pink peach at the top of the bottle, “Well, then I guess this is it.”

“Anything else you need? A toy cleaning spray? Wipes?” She asked with a bright smile and Frank then realized how stark-little he actually knew when it came to toys in general.

“Whichever is cheapest,” Frank admitted as he followed her to another aisle.

“This is the best cleaning spray for its price,” She handed Frank a small nozzled bottle, “I use the Nexus Wash spray and the wipes, and I’ve had no complaints or issues with it. It’s antibacterial and fragrance-free.”

“And they’re how much?” Frank raised an eyebrow when he caught notice of her tight leather pants and her leather bralette, her midriff hidden by a thick black and white striped-something underneath her clothes. He also noted that she was most-likely his height but so much taller thanks to the intensely high platforms she had on; intimidating shoes that seemed so impressive to him.

“The spray itself is only eight dollars, the wipes are four dollars. If you buy both then it’s only ten dollars.”

“Wow. A whole two dollars?” Frank gasped sarcastically, “Where do I sign?” She giggled slightly and gestured to the counter as Frank grabbed a different bottle of spray than the tester he’d been handed and walked off, muttering under his breath about inane wipes for four dollars.

“So, that’ll be an even forty.” She smiled as she rang everything up and packed it all into a black nondescript plastic bag for him. Frank pulled out his wallet and handed her the cash before taking his things and walking out. He felt at least nine inches of relief fall off of his shoulders as he exited the store and walked out into the street.

~

“Frank, I trust your lunch break was good?” Gerard asked simply as he appeared in the office doorway just as Frank stuffed his black packet under his desk. He yelped, turning to Gerard with a casual smile, noting his boss looking at the packet for a second and then up at him. Gerard smiled and crossed one foot over the other, leaning against the doorframe

“Yeah- Yeah, no, it was good.”

“Did you eat?” Gerard queried as he sipped on a coffee that he had obviously gotten from someone else, his other hand casually in the pocket of-

“That’s a new suit?” Frank asked instead of answering his boss’ question, taking in the teal-colored material, and the slight sheen to it, against the contrast of his crisp white shirt and black tie.

“It is. It was the one Stephen had wanted to show me when I took you, I finally decided on something new for myself.” Gerard looked down, nodding before he looked back at his assistant, “I hope, for your sake, that that wasn’t a pitiful attempt to distract me from my question because I think you know better than that, don’t you, boy?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank breathed out, “And no, sir, it wasn’t. I just noticed the suit now. It- You look good, sir.”

“Thank you, boy.” Gerard took another idle sip, “Now, did you eat?”

“I did.” Frank smiled, “I had a wrap that I bought when I was out.”

“Good boy.” Gerard nodded, “I also hope you don’t have any prior plans tonight. I need you…”

“I-” Frank’s throat closed up at Gerard’s words and the gaze that was being thrown his way, “You do?”

“Quite a bit.” Gerard sighed, “Are you able to lend a hand or not, boy?”

“Oh, I’m there.” Frank smiled slightly, “Whenever you need me, sir.”

“Good.” Gerard gave Frank a once-over before disappearing into his office and closing the door. Frank let out a sigh, his stomach churned with anticipation at Gerard’s words and the sudden realization that Gerard hadn’t just once-offed him, that maybe he just needed time. Tonight would be the night that they’d finally be together again. Frank was superfluously grateful that Derek hadn’t been in the office at all then, grateful that his office-mate had most likely also gone out on lunch or on some errand. That Gerard had seized the chance to make his intentions crystal clear to his assistant. Frank shuddered out a breath as he got up, making sure that he looked somewhat presentable before knocking on Gerard’s door and opening it slowly when he had been given the green light.

“Yes, Frank? What can I do for you?”

“Well, sir,” Frank withheld the urge to whimper at the way Gerard was eyeing him over his laptop, “It’s more of, is there anything I can do for you, sir? Right now, anyway.”

“For now, I’m all set. You carry on with your quota for the day but- Oh, tomorrow morning at eight, pencil in my telephonic meeting with Mrs. Adalind, if you would. We’re going to discuss the influx between her sector and mine. It should be about an hour.”

“Eight. Gotcha.” Frank nodded, “Nothing else?”

“Not for now, boy. You’re dismissed.” Gerard gave Frank a short smile before looking back down at his work. Frank closed the door and sighed out shakily, Gerard’s words resonating in his head, the glances he was given were so obvious. The only question was if Frank could hold out for that long? The answer was abundantly clear to himself, resonating in all of the worst places. He couldn’t even begin to hold out for six hours like this. Not even close, not when he was trying his best to hide the semi in his slacks.

And then the realization hit him, the realization that maybe he didn’t have to wait didn’t have to ride out the tumultuous storm raging in his body. His eyes wandered from the ceiling to the packet he had unceremoniously chucked under his desk and he bit his lip. Dare he actually do something like that? Would he completely ignore every moral fiber in his body and obey only the lewd whisperings in his ear from the devil on his shoulder. Frank mentally ticked both boxes as he casually made his way over to his desk, bending over when he caught sight of the box peeking out from the plastic bag. Frank grabbed the packet by its handles and snagged it, holding it nonchalantly bundled up under his arm as he peered out into the hallway. Cursing, he turned back to his desk, writing in Gerard’s appointment for the next morning before carrying on with his stealth mission. He spotted the bathroom on the other side and bit his lip before he sidled out of the office only to launch back in as Derek appeared, walking into the building.

“Oh, you’re back.” Derek smiled as Frank jumped, walking awkwardly in a small circle in the office, arms folded loosely over his chest with a pained smile on his face, “You okay? You look like you hit your toe and you’re tryna walk it off. Snag a piggy on a desk corner, Iero?"

“I- Pins and needles.” Frank chuckled as he continued his nervous panting and pacing, “I’m gonna walk it off outside.”

Before Derek could even respond, Frank had darted out of the office in the direction of the bathroom, slipping into the toilets and into a stall. He whimpered as he closed the door and laid his forehead on it in relief. Frank dropped the bag on the floor as he sat back on the closed toilet, staring at it as he genuinely tried to reason with himself. He both really wanted to get himself off, aching for any touch, but he also knew it was a bad idea. Maybe he could just jerk off and get it over with? Frank pondered on the idea as he hooked his foot around the box and slid it closer for inspection. He realized that he hadn’t even taken a look at what he had bought, too shy to want to come to the internal concession that he didn’t even know if he had gotten the item for which he had paid. For science and for buyer promise, Frank needed to have a look.

He carefully pulled the box out of the packet, his cheeks going pink at the picture on the front of it. He shook his head, opening it when he caught sight of the toy in question, his instinct was to let go and he did, dropping the box on the floor. He swore under his breath at the loud clatter, another obscene epiphany of great truth hit him in a wave that he had actually gone out and bought one of these sordid items. Something he never thought he’d do and here it was, sin-reincarnate on the floor between his legs.

He bent over, picking the box up before he pulled the dildo out slowly, whimpering at the touch of it in his hand. He looked it over, blushing at how realistic it looked for something that it pretended to be. The weight of it was both heavier and lighter than he expected, the velvet of the skin had his own rise up with goosebumps. Innocent curiosity got the better of him as he lifted it up, looking around before giving it a small experimental lick. Frank let out a small giggle despite the obvious plastic taste when he realized he had no idea where it had been or who had touched it. His expression soured, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand twice over. He reached down into the bag and pulled out the spray he had bought, uncapping it and giving it a shake before spraying over every inch of the toy. He coughed lightly at the spritzing of whatever was in the bottle was now in his lungs, and chucked the spray back into the packet before wiping it down on the leg of his pants. He looked at the bottle of lube and picked it up, trying to get it open and failing with the dildo still in his hand. He sighed, looking for a place, when he stuck it to the stall wall beside him, chuckling softly as it wobbled.

Frank opened up the lube, taking the seal off before replacing the cap and giving it a small squeeze, squirting some on his finger to examine it. And it did, in fact, smell like artificial peaches, like a blow pop or a hard candy. He looked at the bottle and saw that it was both scented and flavored and he shrugged, licking his finger cautiously, tasting the lube in his tongue. The consistency was what got him, oily but not at the same time, the taste almost like a flavored chapstick, subtle but not enough to want to eat it all in one go. He looked at the dildo again, his mind still trying to formulate how he wanted to do this, realizing as he shoved his hand into his unbuttoned slacks, that fucking himself on it would probably not be the best. What if Gerard noticed him being less tight than last time? What if he noticed the lube and asked Frank what was up? And worse, what if this would just ruin tonight for Frank? The initial stretch and burn not as good, the heavy feeling not as weighted down and the sex not being as mind-blowing as last time. That would not do. Frank reigned in his hormones with a sigh, shucking his pants down with a free hand as he resigned to the fact that masturbation would be the way to go with his ‘taking-the-edge-off’. But who said he couldn’t at least spice that up, so to speak?

Frank grabbed the bottle of lube yet again, squirting the smallest amount in his hand before he dropped it back down beside him between the wall and the toilet on his left. He managed to shuck his slacks and his underwear down to his knees with his hand before the other hand slicked in lube was wrapped around his dick, stroking. Frank gasped softly at the feel, trying his best to keep himself quiet as his legs slid forward and out in front of him. He slouched back, one hand on the wall to keep himself up. He screwed his eyes shut as he picked up the pace, wanting so badly to get it over and done. At the same time wanting to relish in the moment, in the cheap thrill of getting off at work, so close to the object of his most salacious wet-dreams. Frank tightened his grip around the base of his dick and slid up, thumbing roughly at the tip before repeating the action. The resonance of it was felt in his stomach and his chest and almost everywhere, making his feet turn inward and his toes stretch out in his shoes, making his hand curl and his nails dig into the stall wall.

“F-Fuck.” Frank groaned roughly, leaning his head on his hand on the wall, speeding up slowly. He closed his eyes, chasing his release that seemed too far away still, something so sordidly missing from the moment. And then it caught his attention, what was missing in that moment, his eye glancing at the toy so close to his face. He knew he shouldn’t fuck himself with it, he knew it would be too obvious and that he’d still have to work afterward. But he just needed something, anything to make him feel all the more used and degraded.

Dare he do it? Dare he do what he thought so disgusting and so unusual? Yes. Frank let out a small whimper, his slicked fingers going down over his balls, squeezing softly, sending a heavy torrent of ecstasy through him as he slipped off of the toilet and onto his knees on the floor. Frank had to admit, even just the position he was in was a change of pace, he’d rarely- if ever- masturbated sitting up on his knees before. Frank sucked in a breath as he turned, his slacks slippery on the tiles as he wrapped his slicked hand around the toy that was right in front of him, slicking it up in the melange of lube and his own fluids, stroking it as his imagination did it’s best at changing scenery.

And oh, Frank was more than grateful at his vivid subconscious, grateful that he somewhat closed his eyes as his hand returned to where it was before. _Now or never,_ he thought to himself, taking the plunge and wrapping his mouth around the tip of his new toy. Frank let out a whimper, his hand instinctively tightening around his dick, picking up the pace of his rough strokes as he slid more into his mouth. Frank was surprised at how lifelike it felt, despite the only jarring problem being its lack of warmth. The weight of it on his tongue made his brain do a backflip. This was it, this is what was going to get him off. He slid further, taking in as much as he could before pulling back, screwing his eyes shut even tighter, his body tensing and his head bobbing back and forth. Frank’s free hand rakes up the stall wall and gripped the base of the dick in his mouth, stroking slowly before he found himself tugging at his own hair. The sharp pangs of stinging ache in his skull were glorious, painful, and just damn perfect. Frank moaned around the dildo in his mouth, gagging as he sped up his head motions with those of his peach-slicked hand. Frank thumbed at the slit of his dick, his body jerking at the oversensitivity as his index finger teasingly trailed over the steel bar pierced through the underside skin. He pulled off, whimpering softly, “F-Fuck..”

Frank looked down, lips slippery and glazed with spit as he watched himself get off, whining quietly as the tight coils of his release grew to a painful point, knowing all too well that he was on the very tipping point of a most-inappropriate orgasm.

“O- Oh, God, fuck. A-Ah…” Frank babbled, gritting his teeth, his head thrown back on his shoulders, his arm aching as he rocked his hips up brokenly into his hand. Frank resumed the disgusting show of cock-sucking his dildo, way passed caring at this point. He went as far as he could, the toy hitting the back of his throat and he held himself there, whimpering at the thought of his boss who was mere yards away and unbeknownst to the entire show.

His mind flashed to the night they were together, the time when he had done exactly this to Gerard, replaying the sounds that left him, replaying every single part of it. His incessant brain adding in snippets that weren’t even part of their night together, showing mere glimpses of Gerard’s eyes on him in that overly-sexual manner, of his hands and how they’d curl, how his lips would purse or how he’d bite.

It was the one last glance of stern hazel eyes in Frank’s mind that sent him over the edge, his body tensing before it shattered right there on the floor. Frank moaned out around the dick in his mouth as he came, pulling off as he stroked himself through his orgasm quickly. He looked down, unable to help himself, as he came over his fist and on the floor between his legs. He panted, his skin hot and sweaty under his clothes, his heart racing like it always did, his stomach taut as though he’d just done a set of push-ups. The ache in his knees was coming back then too and he winced at the pain, whimpering as he let go of himself.

“Shit.” Frank whispered softly, realizing the mess he’d have to clean up- including himself, “Worth it.”


	28. The Last Thing I Want is to Let You Go

“Derek?”

“What’s up?”

“I’m just curious about the guys. Like… I noticed that yesterday everyone was using ‘she’ with Cara and today they’re not.” Frank pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the bullpen of cubicles, “What’s up with that?”

“Oh,” Derek smiled, “Cara’s genderfluid. She doesn’t mind any pronouns used but it kinda depends on her clothes from day to day, I guess? Or whatever she tells you. It’s usually ‘she’ but it changes.”

“Oh.” Frank frowned into his coffee, “Didn’t know that. Is- Are they the only genderfluid person in the office?”

“As far as I know, yeah.” Derek nodded, “She’s the only one but she’s not the only one who isn’t cisgender.”

“Wh-” Frank’s head snapped up in surprise, “Excuse me?”

“Didn’t you know?” Derek laughed as he set his ramen noodles down, “Like, it’s not my place to share but as the manager of staff, I figured you oughta know. Pete and Alex are trans, dude.”

Frank stared at him with wide eyes, silently wheeling himself over to the door where he peered out to stare at the back of Pete’s blonde head. He looked at Derek again, “No fuckin’ way.”

“Yeah. Transitioned fully about three years ago.” Derek shrugged, “Alex is still on meds and binders, I think.”

“Won’t they be pissed that you’re just telling me this?” Frank frowned, “Like… Isn’t that a bit of an invasion of privacy?”

“This office is a safe space for everyone, man. They shared their whole journey with us and Alex often tells us about what’s going on with him and his transition.” Derek picked his cup o’Noodles back up and took a sip of the broth, “It’s pretty cool, though.”

“Totally.” Frank smiled as he opened an email from Bob, “Good for them.”

“Sexualities are just as open. Like we have a bit of everything here. But that’s definitely not my place.” Derek muttered the last few words as he continued eating. Frank nodded understandably as he typed out a reply, “Did you also get the email from Bob?”

“Yeah. Maintenance on our server tomorrow.”

Frank whispered, sending his confirmation notice to Dewees. His leg jittered ardently under his desk as he eyed the little digital clock in the corner of his screen. He couldn’t wait for everyone to leave, he was practically bouncing in his seat as Derek packed his backpack, stuffing the contents into it with a smile on his face, “You guys all going out again?” Frank asked as he swung himself back and forth slowly, hearing Derek hum.

“Yeah, we are. And, I take it, you’re gonna be here with boss-man again?” Derek raised an eyebrow and Frank nodded, trying his best to look forlorn.

“At least Lindsey will be here,” Frank added in as a lie to assuage the small glimmer of suspicion that he was spending the night with his boss again just in case Derek was onto him.

“Oh?” Derek looked up, “She’s gonna be there, too?”

“Yeah, she’s been helping me out lately.” Frank waved a dismissive hand, trying to make his lie as believable as possible, “Sweet of her, though.”

“I see…” Derek shrugged his bag on and put his cap on his head, fixing his glasses, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, man.”

“Yeah.” Frank smiled as he got up, walking slightly behind Derek out into the hall where everyone was clocking out, the excitement in the air was palpable.

“Enjoy your evening, everyone.” Gerard appeared in the doorway of his office, a cup of coffee in his hands, one foot draped casually over the other as he leaned on the frame. His usual relaxed stance.

“See ya, boss.” Derek gave Gerard a smile as he clocked out and walked out, leaving Frank and Gerard alone in the building.

“I’m glad you decided to stay,” Gerard stated cryptically and all Frank could do was nod, words were far too much for him to handle right now. Frank looked around at the empty office and then at Gerard, who stepped out of the way and gestured for his assistant to enter. Frank ambled into the office, shrugging off his blazer and setting it on the back of his usual chair as Gerard closed the door and walked around, giving Frank’s shoulder a squeeze as he walked. The touch sent shots of electricity through Frank’s body and he withheld the groan in his throat as Gerard set his coffee down and slid ever-so-gracefully into his chair.

“Now then, boy…” Gerard sighed as he slid into his chair, “I need you…”

“Y-Yeah?” Frank swallowed, frowning slightly as he fidgeting in his seat.

“Come here.” Gerard looked at Frank before going through the papers he had in front of him, scanning them quickly. Frank nodded, getting out of his chair before he walked around the desk to stand at Gerard’s side, “On my right. Always the right, boy.”

“Oh, yes, sir.” Frank muttered, scooting around to the other side, leaning over the chair, “What can I do?”

“Well, first off, I want to ask you a few questions.” Gerard cleared his throat as he turned to Frank, “About you.”

“I- Well, okay, go ahead.” Frank smiled.

“Just some questions about you, boy. I just want to know a little about your take on things.” Gerard steepled his fingers, their eyes locking, “Did you vote in the last election?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who?”

“Obama, sir.” Frank beamed with pride when he saw Gerard’s nod of approval at his answer then, knowing he’d at least got one thing right.

“How old were you when you first voted?”

“Eighteen.”

“What’s the minimum voting age in the Americas?”

“Eighteen, sir.”

“What type of political system do the Americas have?”

“Presidential, constitutional, liberal and federal, sir,” Frank answered, trying to figure out why Gerard was asking him these odd questions, he knew they were obviously both in politics but why now?

“Good, boy.” Gerard cleared his throat, “Type of government?”

“The United States might be labeled a constitutional federal representative democracy, I guess.” Frank shrugged.

“What does an ambassador do?”

“A political ambassador, you mean?” Frank asked and Gerard nodded, “An ambassador is an official envoy. I mean, especially a high-ranking diplomat who represents a state and is usually credited to another sovereign state or to an international organization as the resident representative of their own government or sovereign or appointed for a special and often temporary diplomatic assignment.”

“Very nice.” Gerard smiled, “Why is it important to have reliable ambassadors?”

“Oh,” Frank bit his lip, thinking as he leaned back, holding himself up with his hands on Gerard’s desk, “Well, I mean, they have to be reliable or it sets a bad example for their country and the government they represent. What if I was an ambassador and I went to Russia and I got caught out with drugs and a whore? No one would want to have anything to do with me or whoever I deal with.”

“A fair point.” Gerard nodded, “What are the main political parties in the Americas?”

“Sir?”

“Yes, boy?”

“Can I just…” Frank pursed his lips, “I don’t think you’re saying it right. I mean, I don’t want to be that person but there’s a difference between ‘USA’, the ‘US’ and ‘The States’. Like, America is the continents of America, like North and South and I know what you mean but I don’t think it’s right to just group them all together. Canada is part of America but not really of the States of America, they’re part of the UK’s union, I’m pretty sure. And saying ‘The Americas’ is like grouping them in with us when they’re not really. I didn’t want to say anything but I guess ‘USA’ or ‘the US’ or whatever is better, less asshole-y. America is not the USA whereas, the USA is America or inside America...”

“Frank?”

“Yes, sir?” Frank grimaced, waiting for the ass-kicking of a lifetime.

“I’m glad you noticed." Gerard smiled and Frank looked up at him in surprise, “It was an intentional error to see if you’d pick up on it, and if you’d say anything.”

“Really?” Frank frowned.

“Do you honestly think that I would make such an egregious error?” Gerard then asked and Frank thought about it, realizing he was right, “Exactly, boy.”

“You did all that to test me?”

“Initially no, but I threw it in there for the hell of it.” Gerard chuckled and Frank felt relieved, to say the least. Gerad smiled gravely, “Lastly, boy. Is voting an important responsibility of a citizen?”

“Well, yeah, I mean every vote counts in my book.” Frank shrugged, “You can’t have people sitting around and bitching and moaning about the government and they don’t even vote in the first place. If everyone decided to be lazy and not vote then there wouldn’t be a damn thing happening. I just think that it’s important, yeah. Especially if there’s a problem with the country and something needs to be done.”

“Good.” Gerard sighed, “I’m glad you still seem to have that spark about you. I was hoping you wouldn’t get bored working for me.”

“For you, sir? Never.” Frank grinned as Gerard turned back to his desk in his chair, grabbing the stapler from his drawer and stapling the pages in his hands together swiftly. Frank raised an eyebrow, watching Gerard go about his task and he realized what was happening, so clear to him that Gerard was nervous. He was, for once, shy about making the first move like last time just in case he, Frank, wouldn’t be interested. Frank knew what a daunting task it was to make the first move and he knew how he felt about it but considering he had done it before, he had decided to take the plunge as last time. He leaned closer to Gerard, hands on the armrest, causing his boss to turn and look up at him solemnly, biting his lip.

“Frank?”

“Yes, sir?” Frank asked as he leaned in closer, but Gerard’s gaze broke off, his head turning away from Frank. The latter frowned in confusion before he leaned in, his lips soft on Gerard’s neck, feeling his pulse quicken like it had before.

Gerard swallowed hard before he moved away, a shaky breath in his chest that Frank didn’t miss, ignoring Frank for a moment, “Please, we have to get this done.”

“Oh…” Frank shook his head, realizing that Gerard had wanted to get everything done first before they did anything themselves. Frank merely smiled, leaning in to kiss Gerard’s cheek for a second, lingering when Gerard didn’t move away, “Yes, sir.”

The whisper in Gerard’s ear seemed to do something, the whisper had Gerard’s hand tightened on the pages before he set them down and leaned over, giving Frank a set of files.

“I need you to file these for me, please. Sarah didn’t finish it earlier.” Gerard stated simply, now officially ignoring Frank’s eye contact. Frank walked around the desk and set the files down, opening them and skimming through to make sure they were in the right order, “Do you always do that?”

“Yeah, just in case.” Frank muttered, “Is that a problem, sir?”

“No, not at all.” Gerard took a sip of his coffee, “I never noticed. Very thorough, boy.”

“We aim to please, sir,” Frank smirked up at Gerard, who merely raised an eyebrow in return. Frank finished going through the file and set it aside, his insides getting more and more worked up around Gerard. Frank sucked in a breath and picked up the files, deciding they were organized enough, and scurried off into the filing room.

Once inside, he let out a sigh, hugging the files to his chest for a single minute before he looked down at the file names and began sorting them out, sliding each file into their corresponding code numbers and names. Frank finished putting the manilla sleeves of paper away and stood there, hands on his hips, as he did his damnedest to collect himself before going back out. But he finally did after calling his cowardly self out and threatening to quit masturbating for a year if he didn’t leave the tiny room. Frank opened the door and walked out, striding casually back into Gerard’s office to see him leaning over his desk, standing up rather than sitting, eyes on his laptop, and looking perturbed as all hell.

“Sir?”

“Sit,” Gerard ordered simply and Frank jumped, scurrying to his seat and sliding into it as Gerard ran a hand frustratedly through his hair, turning from his assistant.

“Sir?” Frank asked, suddenly wary, thinking back to whether or not he had done something to piss off his boss.

“In a minute, Frank.” Gerard replied, his voice way too calm, almost eerie and unnerving, like the calm before the storm, “I’m thinking.”

“Oh…” Frank whispered softly, looking down at his hands as he swayed back and forth in his chair.

“Tell me something,” Gerard turned to face Frank and they locked eyes yet again before Gerard looked away, “When you’re upset, how do you handle it?”

“I- What?” Frank frowned, “Well, you saw how I handled Jamia.”

“Drinking and casual sex.” Gerard snorted, “Very philanthropic.”

“Don’t judge how I handle things,” Frank shot back, somewhat offended by Gerard’s seemingly offhand reaction, “How do you handle it, then?”

“Drinking and casual sex.” Gerard replied simply before he walked over to Frank, hands suddenly on the armrests of Frank’s chair, turning him so that they were face to face, “Did you use me to make yourself feel better?”

“Wh- No, of course not.” Frank’s eyes widened at the mere thought, “I wouldn’t do that.”

Gerard straightened up after the hard scrutinizing of Frank’s face seemed complete, turning and walking away from him yet again, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why?” Frank stood up and walked closer as Gerard flopped into his desk chair and turned to look up at Frank, “Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because it’s over.” Gerard shrugged, “Isn’t it? You sure seemed eager to leave.”

“I…” Frank paused, wracking his brain back to that morning when he shook his head and closed the distance between them, his lips on Gerard’s in a swift kiss. Gerard let out a soft noise before he bit down hard on Frank’s bottom lip and pulled away, moving back and breaking their kiss. Frank let out a small hiss at the pain in his lip, surprised by the action.

“Don’t do that…” Gerard whispered softly, scowling up at his assistant, clutching his chair as he moved back somewhat, “I didn’t say you could do that.”

“That never stopped me last time.” Frank moved slightly closer, determined to get passed Gerard’s inane mind-games.

“Last time you needed me.” Gerard reminded and Frank tilted his head to the side, “You needed someone to be with you and I could see it in your eyes.”

“What if I need you now?” Frank asked as he stepped between Gerard’s legs, “Different reasons maybe, but what if I do?”

“Do you?” Gerard raised an eyebrow, his face etched with doubt.

“Well, why don’t I show you?”

“No,” Gerard said firmly and Frank rolled his eyes, reaching up to unfasten Gerard’s tie, undoing the top button of Gerard’s shirt when he let out a yelp. Gerard had pushed him back, pushing Frank against the desk, on his feet in an instant, hands wrapped like iron-vices around the younger’s wrists. Frank let out a whimper as Gerard tightened his grip.

“You will do to learn your place, Frank. I. Said... No.” Gerard whispered, looking down at him angrily as he pushed Frank against the desk, whispered threats against the back of Frank’s ear. Frank looked up into Gerard’s eyes, seeing the bright and molten anger in them behind the hard glaze of icy dominance. Frank swallowed as Gerard held his wrists down, “If I say something, you listen. Or you will bear consequences, boy.”

“I- I…” Frank whimpered, suddenly terrified of his boss, his knees shaking as he was pressed against the desk, the rage of emotions swirling in him was enough to make him nauseous, much like a thrilling carnival ride. Only, this ride wasn’t letting him on.

“You will go home now, understand? I can do this without you if all you’re going to do is piss around.” Gerard let go of Frank’s hands and took him in a firm squeeze by the shoulder when Frank’s eyes widened and he stopped dead, turning.

“I- I don’t understand… I thought you- You and I- We…”

“There is no ‘we’, Frank. Not now. Not this time. And I expect that when you arrive at work tomorrow, you will have put this all to bed in your childish head or I will have to do something about it, are we clear?”

“Y- Yes… Yes, sir.” Frank shuddered softly, “I understand.”

“I hope you do. The last thing I want is to let you go.” Gerard eyed his assistant, “I’m under too much pressure to do this now. And it would be best if you went home.”

“Yes, I understand, sir.” Frank nodded, still reeling inside at the hard touch from his boss, “Whatever you want, sir.”

“I want you, Frank…” Gerard sighed, “To go home.”


	29. Carpet Burns on a Wednesday Night Smell like Regret

Frank had rushed when it came to picking up dinner, calling the take-out place ahead of time just so he could pick up, and pay for, his noodles as soon as he got there. His dinner resting on the passenger seat of his car along with his work bag and the other bag that he had required earlier in the day. The unlabelled bag that Frank kept glancing at when he had a moment to do so; his need completely gravitating towards the contents. Frank hadn’t gotten home as quickly as he had in a long time because his need was so intense. He didn’t understand it, Frank knew that he had a high sex drive, but being like this so soon after he had jerked off in the staff bathroom with his newly acquired sex toy in his mouth, this was new for him. The way he felt like his mind was clouded with a static haze, Frank couldn’t get over how he felt completely on-edge, how his leg had been twitching in the car before he parked.

Frank eventually got back to the one place that he really wished he didn’t have to go be. Unfortunately, with how things had transpired, he didn’t have a choice when it came to living arrangements. After losing Jamia, Frank knew that he couldn’t continue living in her house. The place was being sold by her parents and they hadn’t been pleased about the fact that he was crashing in her spare room rent-free. As soon as he could, Frank packed up what little possessions he had and moved out, not entirely knowing where he was going to go. He didn’t exactly have many options. For once in the past few days, since he had chosen his last resort, he had been living in the seediest looking motel he had ever known to exist. He found himself rushing to get back and needing to get behind the locked door of his new home. That was all Frank could feel coursing through his entire being; a need that wouldn’t go to sleep.

‘Casa de Dallas’, as Frank had named it, his new digs definitely looked like it was stuck in some sort of seventies time-warp. The bedding was a hideous black-on-mustard paisley pattern that Frank swore only the elderly would have in their home. The floor was carpeted a horrid brown color, with the kind of pattern on it that reminded him of a 3D illusion picture that he’d find in Mad Magazine. God knows what he would see if he stared into it, probably how depressing his life had gotten; Frank really didn’t want to see that. The walls were an insipid yellow, that wonderful color from smokers who had been in the same room before him. The whole space was so cramped and what was more depressing was the fact that the expensive suits that Gerard had bought him were being hung in the most dated wardrobe he had ever seen. The whole room was the most desolate thing Frank had ever seen, making his heart sink a little while he climbed the stairs of the motel, getting onto his floor before walking down to his room. Unlocking the door, Frank pushed it open with his shoulder, struggling with his bags for a moment before he got in, setting them down on the vanity in front of him so he could shut the door behind him.

 _Home sweet home_ , Frank thought, resting his back against the door, taking a moment to try and get his shit together in his head. Frank couldn’t shake how he felt at all. What had happened earlier had really shaken him. Frank had been annoyed when Gerard kept trying to stop him over and over again, but he had been completely shocked when Gerard actually stopped him from advances altogether. He couldn’t believe that Gerard had been like that with him; the way he had spoken to him, it should have scared Frank, but it had done quite the opposite. It was like the ‘on’ switch had been jammed in Frank’s head, pressed too hard so he couldn’t switch it off. The way Gerard had spoken to him had made Frank giddy, seeing him in a whole new light that was more alluring. Frank moved away from the door, drawing in a shaky breath. There was a small part of him that wished he could shake this off, but the rest of him chose to ignore that tiny voice in the back of his head that said to leave it alone. He felt more alive than he had in years; like a fire in the pit of his stomach had been ignited and for the love of God, he didn’t want that to go out. He wanted to stoke the fire and turn it into an inferno, it was just…

Frank sat down on the edge of his bed, internally fighting with himself because now that he was home and behind closed doors, there was only one thing that was crossing his mind. Frank couldn’t even focus properly with Gerard’s voice was still ringing in his ears. The orders and the tight grip on his wrists had Frank dumbstruck. He wasn’t surprised that Gerard could sound like that, but the surprise was because of the timing, and it went straight to his dick, leaving him with a semi that he wanted to sort out.

Frank looked at what he had brought home with him, his dinner going cold next to the other unmarked bag away from which he couldn’t look away. For a moment all he could do was look at the bag, trying to process if he was going to do this. Of course, he was, Frank knew that there was no other way he was going to be satisfied if he didn’t do it. Jerking off in bed wasn’t going to be enough. What he had done at work had curbed his hunger for a short period of time and now, all he wanted was to do something more. He was home and he was behind closed doors where he wasn’t going to be caught out if he made a sound.

Earlier had been exciting but now it was boiling down to unadulterated need. His substitute for what Gerard and how he desperately he wanted him again, but that wasn’t happening. He got up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, going over to the bag, rifling for a second before he pulled out the dildo, weighing up how this was going to work best for him. Frank sat himself back down on the bed, taking a moment to assess how this was going to work. Just holding the dildo in his hands, his mind started to go a mile an hour, his imagination running wild like he was with Gerard right now, hands wrapped around him. For a second he completely forgot that he was in his shitty motel room and about to consider how he was going to fuck himself. In his mind, he was with Gerard, they were entwined yet again. His dick ached and Frank moved one hand, massaging himself through his suit pants, letting a breath of a moan escape him before it was decided. Frank knew that this had to happen or he’d lose his mind over the man who had a hold of him, pinning him back. He wanted Gerard restraining him and that only made things worse for Frank in the most indescribable way possible.

Frank tossed the dildo onto the bed, making light work of undressing himself. He pulled his tie free from around his neck before unbuttoning his shirt. He tried to think about how he was going to do this but his thoughts were nearly entirely scrambled, he could barely string a single thought-process together. He discarded his shirt, letting it fall to the floor without a care. Frank felt like he was in heat, he couldn’t explain the insatiable urge under his skin, the longing to be filled by a man so much stronger than him. He had never felt it build in his system so fast, it made him almost dizzy. He stood up, quickly going over to the window to close the curtains before he shoved his work pants down, kicking off his shoes. He tried to get a grip on the situation and a grip on the dildo because now he was naked and wanting. His dick twitched at the thought of it being buried inside of him; a shiver ran down his spine at the thought of finally being able to use it properly. How it was going to work though, Frank hadn’t quite got to that point yet. He stood still for a moment, his fingers circling over the suction cup at the base of the toy.

Sticking it to something was definitely what he wanted to go for, but what? It was like a whole other side that Frank didn’t know about himself. Gerard hadn’t wanted him, clearly saying ‘no’ to him, but that hadn’t stifled Frank at all. It had done quite the opposite, bringing to him this whole new need that seemed so sordid yet so tempting. This was new. This was something that Frank couldn’t just push to one side and ignore.

Frank looked over the room. There were possibilities, it was just a matter of deciding on if he would do it, or if it was even possible. The headboard seemed like a good idea, but it also looked like it would be too low. The angle wouldn’t be right and he felt like he would have ended up more frustrated than satisfied. Another option was sticking it to the wall, but there were some pretty nasty looking stains that Frank really didn’t want to be near, no matter how horny.

Definitely not against the fridge; that just seemed too weird. There was one place, the only other viable option. It meant that he would have to probably move stuff around in his room to get it to work, but Frank was more than happy to make this work. A combination of laziness and need overcame him as he grabbed the bags from the vanity, dumping them on the floor haphazardly. He didn’t care about tidiness, didn’t care about his dinner. He flipped the dildo over in his hands, licking at the base of it before sticking the suction cup firmly to the side of his closet next to the old vanity. Frank paused for a moment, pulling in a shaky breath while he looked at the dildo stuck to the side of the wardrobe before he saw the reflection of it in the mirror of the vanity table. He wrapped a hand around his dick, stroking it lazily, pulling him back to reality before he went back to the bag to retrieve the lube.

Uncapping the bottle, Frank squirted some onto his fingers, smearing over them before he reached around with his free hand gripping onto the vanity, Frank bit his lip when he circled his hole with his slick digits, the feeling rippled through when he pushed in, a small burn resonating. Frank was too far-gone to care that he hadn’t used enough lube. One finger became two, stretching quickly because he couldn’t wait. Frank couldn’t even begin to consider going slow and prepping properly. There was no way in hell he was going to waste any more time when he pulled his fingers out, thinking ‘fuck it’ in more ways than one.

Frank ran his slicked hand over the dildo, his stomach knotting at the idea of it being inside him. This probably wasn’t the best way that he could have done it, but that didn’t matter. Frank barely put any thought into what he was doing as he moved the chair that was set under the vanity. He put a hand on the back of the chair, planted one foot on the stool, making sure it was sturdy enough to take his weight before he climbed onto the vanity-top.

He paused, hoping and praying to God that he wasn’t about to plummet to the floor because the vanity couldn’t take his weight. It seemed okay though after a moment and he took a breath of relief. He shifted, ignoring his reflection in the mirror as he lined up, feeling the toy against his hole, rocking against it as a quiet moan left his lips. _Can’t be too loud_ , Frank thought; the motel walls were practically paper-thin. He knew this from when he had heard someone one or two rooms over having sex the other night when he was trying to get to sleep. Frank felt dazed as he rubbed back against the dildo, the feeling of it against his hole enough to have him keening. He held his breath when he pushed back against the dildo slowly, nudging the head of it slowly into himself. His mouth dropped open but no noise came out of him when he slowly started to push back more. The sting of the toy stretching him more and it hurt a little more than he had expected it to, but the pain felt good, mingling in with the pleasure of finally being full again. He had both knees planted on the vanity, feet pressed against the side of the closet. He arched his back, wrapping his fingers around the edge of the tabletop. He had no idea how much of it was already in him but he wanted to push back, sink down against the toy and finally have what he wanted. He moved deliberately, savoring how good the blissful pain and pleasure was going straight to his dick, making his skin feel hot. A prickling sensation took while he clung onto the side of the vanity, groaning until his ass came in contact with the side panel of the wardrobe.

Frank’s head dipped low between his shoulders, panting at the feeling of finally being full again. He tried to shut off his surroundings by closing his eyes, trying his best to imagine that he had gotten exactly what he had wanted earlier that night. He imagined that he wasn’t alone in his room. No, he was with Gerard, his imagination running amok when he shifted slightly, the weight of the dildo in him shifting, the angle ever so fractionally different, but God, did it feel good. It felt fucking exquisite when he slid forward on the length, feeling breathless when he sunk back against it. Frank began to build up a rhythm, rocking himself back and forth against the toy. In his head, he wasn’t in his shitty motel room with a dildo in his ass. In his head, he was with Gerard, again- Finally. The older man finally succumbing to what they both wanted. There was no denying that there was something between them, even if Gerard had rejected him in such an aggressive manner. It didn’t stop Frank and it wasn’t stopping him now when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror to his left. The sight of the dildo disappearing into him, it didn’t look like he was fucking a toy that was stuck to the wardrobe. It all piled on top of his senses and had him breathe out Gerard’s name when he pushed back a little harder.

“Fuck…” Frank panted out, ignoring how his knees were starting to ache from where he was kneeling on wood. He shifted and leaned down a little lower, choking out when the change in the angle made it feel so overwhelmingly good. With his ass up in the air, Frank could almost imagine how it would look if he had Gerard buried in him, his hands on Frank’s hips, holding him so tightly, pulling and pushing Frank onto his dick, making him feel used but in the best way possible. He would get a hand in his hair, gripping so tight that Frank would feel the pain in his scalp, pain that would go straight to his dick. Frank lay his forehead on the vanity, one hand in his hair, tugging on the knots from where he hadn’t brushed it properly this morning. But it didn’t feel enough. As much as this felt like the second-best fuck he had ever had, it just wasn’t quite getting him off. Having picked up the pace, hoping that inevitably he would be coming in no time, he just couldn’t reach it. So close but so far. Frank wanted to come with the idea of Gerard fucking him from behind clear in his mind, but it was just wasn’t happening. There needed to be something _more_. Something so unlike anything he had done before, something that could easily have been so ‘Gerard’. Frank didn’t know what to do and he stopped, panting heavily, the frustration starting to take over while he pushed sweaty hair out of his eyes.

Frank scanned his room to see if there was anything he could use to spice it up. Nothing seemed to be jumping out at him. Nothing was going to help him out right now. Suddenly, Frank thought of something that would help him get off. The way Gerard had grabbed him in the office, it had really made him melt on the inside so unexpectedly. Gerard holding him back, showing who was stronger out of the two of them, rendering Frank helpless. Frank thought for a second, wondering what he could use to replicate that same feeling when Gerard had got ahold of his wrists. But he had nothing that would help the feeling of being held down by the man he so desperately wanted. Hopeless, Frank sighed, knowing it would never be the same. And then his eyes fell on his pants that he had left strewn on the floor; the glint of metal caught his eyes and it came together in his head. He shifted, grunting at the feeling empty as he pulled off. He climbed down to get the belt, pulling it free roughly from his pants. Frank practiced wrapping the leather around his left wrist. Maybe it would have been weirder if he still had one of Ryan's belts, but in his head, this felt right. It was the belt that Gerard had bought him when he got him the two suits. It seemed more fitting, doing this with something that Gerard had given him.

Frank got back to where he had been, groaning when he sunk back down on the dildo, whining high when it pressed against his prostate. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, assimilate before he took one end of the belt, and held it between his teeth while he wrapped the leather around his wrists. He slid the rest of the belt through the buckle, he pulled it as tight as he could until it wouldn’t go anymore with his bound hands. Already restricted, he bit down on the leather, pulling it even tighter until the skin on his wrists started to pinch. He was immobilized with the dildo buried in his ass, imagining that Gerard had been the one to tie him up to the point that he was completely helpless. He wanted it so badly, he wanted Gerard so badly as he started to rock back and forth on the toy. A muffled grunt of a moan passing the belt that was still between his teeth, pulling it tight against his wrists.

Frank could feel his insides knotting up tighter and tighter as he tried to pick up a faster pace. His ass bumped against the side of the wardrobe every now and again, making him imagine that it was Gerard, that it was skin against skin. The thought alone made Frank moan louder, just as he had done the first time they had slept together. He couldn’t help it; the idea of Gerard fucking him again was enough to make Frank lose all inhibition. Even the belt between his teeth wasn’t silencing him. The strained out moans and curses fell from his lips, his breaths were short and sharp. He was so close, he wished that he could reach under himself, grab his dick, and get himself off. But no, he wanted to come as he had with Gerard- Untouched. He couldn’t get a hand on himself anyway, so he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. He kept his hands bound tight, ignoring how the leather was rubbing against his wrists. It hurt, but it felt far too good to loosen; so good that he knew he was getting closer and closer already.

“Fuck… Ah-” Frank panted out through gritted teeth, the word nearly lost against the leather resting on the tip of his tongue. He screwed his eyes shut as he tried to concentrate. He was so close, practically chasing his own orgasm as he tried to adjust. The feeling of being completely constricted and powerless was the kick Frank needed to tip him over. He was pretty sure that if Gerard did tie him up, he would probably come instantaneously. The thought of those eyes on him those hands on him. Even the way Gerard spoke to him sometimes; the confidence and power that dripped from his words. The way he told Frank who was in charge when they were first in bed together. To hear that again, to be put in his place once more. Frank would have it that way- Any way- just to have the man he fantasized about once more.

Frank's movements became hurried when the familiar sensation started to bubble up inside of him. He didn’t care if anyone could hear him through the thin walls, his moans and curses probably hitting a somewhat embarrassingly high pitch, but he really didn’t care. He tipped over with a choked gasp, the orgasm ripping through him as it had done just a week ago. It started off small but took over, engulfing him from his head to his curled toes. He came hard, streaking the vanity in come as he panted out Gerard's name from behind his teeth. He reveled in the sick twist of pleasure inside him, he couldn’t even focus on anything, completely knocked dumb.

He eventually came to a stop, unmoving while the post-orgasm tingle warmed him thoroughly. He didn’t even realize how much he had drooled until he looked down and saw the wet middle that had dripped onto the vanity, mingling with his warm release. He finally released the belt from between his teeth, letting it fall and land on his still-bound wrists. Best orgasm ever- No, second best. It would be hard to beat what Gerard had done to him, but it was a very close second. Frank tried to catch his breath, resting his head on the backs of his hands while he gingerly pulled away from the dildo.

He felt sore but the good kind of sore that he half-expected. It was something that he wanted Gerard to do to him, leave him with the same open and used feeling that had him smiling against the back of his hand, wiping away the smeared saliva around his mouth.

But th problem with the substitute that he was having to rely on, his post-sex high only lasted for a short amount of time. It wasn’t like he could lie there, feeling like he was going to be on top of the world for an extended period of time because he had been with someone else. The realization hit quicker than Frank had expected, leaving him feeling alone and somewhat dirty because of what he had just done. Because who in their right mind would get desperate enough to climb on top of furniture just to get a quick orgasm? Who would buy a sex toy just to feel something that they most likely weren’t going to have ever again? Clearly Frank would, and he had. The high was gone and the reality was back. He opened his eyes, looking down at his bound wrists, feeling the nudge of the dildo behind him when he adjusted.

“Shit,” Frank whispered. The one word that rang out in the silence that took over his shitty motel room. It was the epitome of how desperate he had got in life at such a young age. It wasn’t even like he was older and on the back end of a divorce. No, he was so young and so desperate to just get by. Frank instantly cringed when he realized just how awkward it was going to be when he next saw Gerard. After being told to put all of this to bed in his childish head, he had done the exact opposite.

It all sunk in far too quickly and made Frank realize that he was still kneeling on the vanity, still naked and feeling embarrassed. He tugged the belt free from his wrists before he let it drop to the floor. The sheer need and desperation had led him to be on top of the furniture that he was now climbing down from, tugging the dildo from where he had stuck it, feeling the need to hide it out of shame. A quick fuck on a twenty-six dollar sex toy that he had stuffed back into the bag from whence it had come. He reached for his sweatpants that were on the end of the bed, pulling them on quickly. When he had been with Ryan, never before had he felt the need to buy a sex toy, never before had he been so desperate that he had to run off to the staff toilets and jerk off with said sex toy in his mouth. All of a sudden he felt like he didn’t even know who he was anymore.

Frank reached down to grab his work pants, folding them up, placing them over the back of the chair while he tried to carry on like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He was trying to move past it, he hoped that the embarrassment would die down by the morning and he would be able to make some sort of eye contact with Gerard.

“Oh, shit...” Frank cursed when he caught sight of his wrists; the usually pale skin was now red and starting to bruise. It was so noticeable that Frank had had something wrapped tightly around his wrists, so obvious. He panicked, staring at his wrists, trying to work out what the Hell he was going to do to cover up the fact that he had bound his wrists together. God knows what Gerard would think if he saw them. He would probably put two and two together and realize that Frank had, in fact, had some fun with himself. That could not happen, especially after the way he had spoken to him in the office. Frank tried his best to come up with a way to hide what he had done, but nothing seemed to be a good enough idea in his head. Even though he knew that his work shirts would cover it, he knew that if he even moved his arms slightly, the marks would be revealed and someone would see them. Someone would question and wonder what had happened to him. What was he supposed to say? Frank had no idea and he really hoped that the marks would have gone down a bit by the morning.

Cleaning up what he had done because once it was all out of sight, he could deny that it had ever happened. Frank wiped down the vanity, removing all evidence that he had, in fact, come while calling out his boss’s name. The bag that contained the dildo, and other things he had bought, got kicked under the bed and hidden from sight. It calmed him a little, but he still knew what he had done, even if everything wasn’t in his periphery. Frank picked the belt up, mentally cursing himself before he looped it back onto his pants, wishing that he had never got the idea in the first place.

He tidied, not bothering to find a shirt because he would be going to sleep soon. Everything was okay and he was totally not panicking at all. He finally picked up his dinner from the floor, taking the take out box of noodles that he had ordered, peeling it open before he started to eat. This seemed normal, like something that he would have done the moment that he got back from work. He considered putting on the TV, zoning out and forgetting while he ate his cold dinner. The problem was that whenever he brought his plastic fork up to his mouth, he caught sight of his bruising and raw wrists. He chewed on his noodles, mentally facepalming, mentally, and internally dying because he knew that denial could work for him despite the evidence.

Frank muttered to himself, letting his fork drop into his half-eaten dinner. He just couldn’t stomach food right now; the idea of eating made his stomach churn. He went over to the trashcan by his fridge and put his food into a plastic packet, hoping it could be salvaged by someone who found it. He threw the food into the trash and set the full bag outside of his door for pick up. He closed and locked his door again, wishing that he had reeled himself in a bit- Did he have no self-control? Did he not know how to behave? He felt like a wild animal running on instinct, no manners, and no obedience- No owner in sight, left to fend for itself.

Frank stood by his bed, the idea of sleep seemed a little far-fetched. His mind raced and he groaned, going to flop down onto his bed, hating himself a little bit more. He flopped down onto the bed, groaning at how difficult he had made it for himself, but his bed refused to do what it was supposed to do; the springs in the mattress giving out under him. Frank flailed with a yelp and went to grab at the comforter, scrambling as he rolled, pulling the blanket with him, making the bedding fall on top of him as he landed on the floor with a thud.

He landed on his face, chest, and stomach on the carpet rather violently, the sound of bouncing springs thrumming beside him like a laugh-track to his sad life. It was like hitting rock-bottom, this was probably the lowest he could go. After everything that had happened, there was no way he could get any lower than he was at that moment, half tangled up in his comforter with cheek against the carpet, his stomach and chest burning from possible carpet burns. This could not get any worse. Frank was sure of it. At least he had put his jeans on; that had to be something. Carpet burns on his stomach and chest were one thing, but at least he wasn’t going to have to put up with a carpet burn on his dick. He refused to move, curled up into a ball on the carpet, blanket still tangled around his legs. He kept telling himself that tomorrow would be a new day and it hopefully wasn’t going to go as badly as he thought it would.


	30. A Dog Should Never Forget Who His Master Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Btw look out, tomorrow is a double update.

**A/N: Btw look out, tomorrow is a double update.**

Frank tugged at his sleeves the next morning, doing his best to avoid his boss as much as possible after the events of the night before, both at work and at home. He knew how much he had upset Gerard and the last thing he wanted was to bring it all back between them. Frank sat in the filing room as he sorted out some of the files that Derek had given him, knowing Derek was watching every now and again. He sat on his knees, humming to himself as he listened to Korn with one earbud.

“Morning, sweetie.” Lindsey greeted as she stuck her head into the filing room, making Frank jump and turn to see her, smiling back.

“Hey, you.” Frank replied simply with a small wave, “How are ya?”

“Never better.” She smiled before stepping into the filing room, and closed the door behind her, “I heard about what happened last night.”

“Dunno what you mean.” Frank shrugged, sorting pages out correctly, frowning at the careless mistakes his coworker had made, wondering if Derek had started messing up on purpose to catch him in a mistake.

“Gerard told me about your argument last night. He came home rather perturbed.” Lindsey announced and Frank grimaced at the thought, “Slamming doors and cursing like a sailor.”

“Swearing? Gerard?” Frank asked, trying to act nonchalant as he paused his music, giving Lindsey his full concentration.

“He seemed rather upset about it.” Lindsey sighed before she walked over and went down on her knees beside Frank, “He really can be a grumpy old man sometimes but, it’s just who he is.”

“Tell me about it…” Frank muttered, “First he lures me in, then pushes me away, then he fucks me and acts like it never happened, now I try and do exactly what I did last time and he completely rejects me- It fucking hurt, Linds.”

“Give him time.” Lindsey wrapped an arm around Frank and gave him a small hug as he leaned in, smelling her perfume- roses and floral scents that he completely predicted about her. He lay his head in the crook of her neck for a moment before pulling away. She smiled down at him, “I have a meeting in a few minutes but why don’t you stop by my office later and we can chat, okay?”

“Yeah?” Frank looked up at her as she got up, dressed in the tightest leather skirt and an almost sheer blouse in a soft blush pink.

“Of course.” She smiled, her crimson lips pulled up as she beamed down at him, “We can have lunch and discuss your tumultuous love life.”

“I’d love that.” Frank sighed out, offering up a small but grateful smile as she opened the door and adjusted her skirt’s tight belt. She walked out again, redoing her hair in her usual large clip. Frank smiled warmly as he sat up a bit straighter, his day not as bad as thought it would be. He adjusted his tie and carried on with the files, realizing just how strewn out they had been when he hadn’t been focusing. He gathered them up properly and began sorting them out, humming yet again.

“You almost done?” Derek sighed impatiently, rolling into view in their office doorway, looking at Frank across the hall who looked up.

“No, sorry. Lindsey was here and we were having a chat and she distracted me. I’m almost done.” Frank grimaced apologetically and Derek merely rolled his eyes and pushed himself back to his desk, “Dick…” Frank sighed as he got up from the floor, sorting the files out properly for the last time before he pocketed his earphones in his blazer pocket.

~

It was lunchtime now, Frank was already heading back to the office after he had gone out to buy food, stopping at a deli to grab himself and Lindsey each a sandwich and juice. He knew she loved turkey on rye and he snagged the last one with an apple and berry juice for her, snagging himself a simple salad-sandwich and an orange juice. It was on the way to his car when he stopped, looking over to see the roses in a plastic bucket for sale by a street vendor. He grabbed a bunch of red ones, laughing as he hoped she’d remember the last time he’d given her flowers. An inside joke between them when he didn’t want to admit that he had grown fond of Lindsey, feeling like she was almost like a sister to him, or a mother of sorts in a not-so-weird way. He walked into the building and into his office, shedding his jacket after he set the items down, folding the material over the back of his chair.

“And that?” Derek asked with a raised eyebrow, looking at the flowers and Frank merely laughed them off as he tucked in the back of his shirt neatly.

“Just got them for Lindsey.” He shrugged, waving a hand, “Thought she’d like them.”

“You bought her… Roses?” Derek raised an eyebrow, “Your boss’s wife.”

“Yeah…? So?” Frank frowned, “Just being nice…”

“There’s nice and then there’s ‘red roses’.” Derek shrugged as he took a helping of his ramen noodles from their cup, chewing softly, “Jus’ weird…”

“Do you want them then?” Frank asked with a wave to the bunch of flowers, “Considering your keen interest in who I buy flowers for.”

“You keep your crummy flowers,” Derek nodded, “Alls I’m saying is, is that red flowers are rather suggestive for a woman and I know you’re not straight so she might get the wrong idea, man.”

“They’re just flowers. I’m just being nice considering her husband is a cold miser in an even colder suit.” Frank muttered as he snatched the flowers and the packet of food, and walked out towards Lindsey’s office door. Frank ran a hand through his hair before knocking lightly, waiting for her to let him in. He heard her call out and he opened the door, peering in with a small smile, “Hey? You busy?”

“Not for you.” She smiled back, “Come in, sweetie.”

Frank sighed in relief and walked into her office, closing the door before he held out the flowers with a small smile, “Your old ones were dead and they looked so nice in here, so I got you new ones.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” She gasped, standing up as she walked around the desk. She carefully took them from Frank’s hand, holding them as though they were gold, “Oh, Frank. They’re beautiful.”

“Eh, they’re alright.” Frank chuckled, “Bought us lunch while I was out.”

“You’re too much.” She smiled brightly as she set the roses down on the desk and sat down in her large chair. Frank set the packet on the desk and slid into the chair across from her, unpacking their food before he slid hers towards her.

“I didn’t know what juice you wanted so I went with apple-berry.” Frank stated as he crumpled up the packet and stuffed it in his pocket, “You can always have my orange juice if-”

“Apple-berry is perfect.” She interrupted him, “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.” He waved her off and she looked startled, “I insist. As a payment.”

“For?”

“Letting me bitch about your husband that fucked me and acted like it was nothing but a business deal.” Frank chuckled as he sat back in his chair, opening the bottle of orange juice and having a large sip as Lindsey laughed and did the same.

“He never tells me anything, really,” She began as she opened her sandwich up from its plastic container, “I was quite surprised when he barged into my room last night ranting and raving about you. I was almost asleep watching Extreme Makeover.”

“Regular or Home Edition?” Frank asked as he set his juice down on the floor beside his chair and began rolling up his sleeves to save them from the mayo on his sandwich.

“Home Edition,” Lindsey scoffed, “What else? He’s lucky he didn’t walk in on me doing anything else, the stupid ass.”

“You’re kidding.” Frank grinned sheepishly and Lindsey giggled lightly, waving a hand.

“The man has no sense of privacy. Hell, I could have been in a one-woman self-love party and he wouldn’t have cared.”

“I wouldn’t want to be the third wheel to that self-love ordeal.” Frank snickered, “He wouldn’t barge in on you and your alone time, would he?”

“He has plenty of times.” Lindsey scowled as she bit into one half of her sandwich, chewing on it momentarily, “Doesn’t give a damn though, just keeps on talking.”

“Does he even notice you’re busy, y’know… Going all ‘Divinyls’ on yourself?” Frank scoffed and Lindsey raised an eyebrow as she swallowed.

“First off, I didn’t realize you were old enough to know who the hell the Divinyls are, let alone make a masturbatory reference about their best song ever. And secondly, I’m not even sure. But last night, luckily, I wasn’t. He just barged in and started raving about you, hands going and huffing about. It took me about three tries to calm him down after he punched my mattress and swore in French.”

“What the hell?” Frank frowned, his voice soft as he began rolling up his other sleeve.

“Oh, I know. Telling me how insubordinate you are and how you push him too far, and how your mind games are going to give him a stroke.” Lindsey rolled her eyes, taking another bite.

“My- _My_ mind games? Is he serious? He’s the bastard who’s been throwing me around back and forth because he doesn’t know what he wants.”

“Oh, he knows what he wants.” Lindsey eyed Frank, the look itself being an answer enough.

“Then I don’t know what his problem is.” Frank huffed as he reached down and grabbed his orange juice, unscrewing the cap to take a sip.

“Gerard Way is a complex creature. He’s a gentleman and a gentleman is merely a patient wolf, Frank.” Lindsey stated wisely before taking another bite and chewing on it with more elegance and sensuality than Frank had in his entire body.

“Yeah, well, it’s annoying as hell.” Frank sighed before he let out a whine, stomping his feet like a child, “Lindsey-y-y… I want him…”

Lindsey couldn’t help the snort in reply to Frank’s childish tantrum, laughing at him behind her hand as he slid down in the chair and folded his arms over his chest, “Oh, wow.”

“You don’t understand…” Frank leaned in, “It’s bad. I am indeed the smitten kitten.”

“I can tell.” She eyed him, “And you’ve tried to make a move on him?”

“Of course. What do you think last night was? I tried to kiss him and he didn’t want that. I thought maybe he’s just not the ‘kissing’ type and he’d like something more forward so I went to just take off his tie and he exploded.” Frank huffed.

“Alright, well, why don’t I try and help you?’ She asked as she swallowed the last bite of one half of her turkey on rye, “A few pointers and tips into the inner workings of my dear husband.”

“I’ll be in your debt forever, I swear to God.” Frank sputtered as he pulled his chair closer to the desk, suddenly all ears as he set his juice down, watching her close up the rest of her food.

“First off, don’t ever try and boss him around, he doesn’t like it. No one bosses around Gerard Way.” Lindsey began and Frank already knew that one rather well from personal experience.

“Except you.” Frank countered.

“Exactly.” She smiled, “Only because he listens to me. Because I’m right.”

“Because you’re a woman.” Frank replied knowingly, nodding as he pursed his lips in agreement, “I know that as a fact. I’m not stupid. Women are always right. Women are the future. All that vagina empowering stuff. I mean, why not? Men just make messes of things anyway.”

“Good.” She took a sip of her juice, “Secondly, he gets very territorial and very jealous very quickly. No one takes or touches what’s his or he loses his cool. A patient wolf, he may be… But a jealous wolf, he is in threefold.”

“What else?”

“Always do what he tells you.” Lindsey nodded, “Even if you need help, you ask for it instead of trying to do it yourself and fucking it up so he has to clean the mess. But do it either way or he gets in a foul mood, and your consequences are a lot worse than if you made your first mistake only once.”

“Right, yeah, I noticed that.” Frank frowned, remembering when he had first started working for Gerard.

“He may look and act cold and uncaring but he’s a big softie.” Lindsey smiled and Frank automatically scoffed at her words, rolling his eyes, “You’ll be surprised, sweetie. He’s a sucker for foreign literature and romantic poetry. He doesn’t cry at romance movies or anything but he’s a romantic at heart and always has been. He doesn’t like showing it, it’s very difficult for him.”

“That is surprising…” Frank frowned when he realized that she was being serious, “Really?”

“Totally.” She smiled, “Every year for his birthday I buy him a collected-works of gothic and Edwardian poetry. He sits outside and reads it for ages on end, cover-to-cover more than once.”

“I really didn’t expect that.” Frank admitted, “Anything else?”

“He’s not competitive.” Lindsey stated, “Don’t try and outdo him in anything, doesn’t matter what. He won’t try and beat you, you’ll only infuriate him and he’ll walk away. He doesn’t care for trivial competing or ‘who’s best at what’ because he either knows he’s already better than you, or the topic doesn’t interest him enough to bother with it. Those trivial ‘my penis is bigger’ contests only annoy him.”

“How so?”

“For example, he won’t try and get his work done before you just to win, and the prospect of winning doesn’t interest him when he’d rather take his time and do it properly. Or even sexually. Same thing. He won’t try and race you to the finish, but he’ll take his time in certain things and do it the way he wants. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, as he’d say.” Lindsey somewhat rolled her eyes, “Nothing like that fazes him.”

“So, he’s just always slow?” Frank asked, sounding somewhat disapproving at the idea of always taking his time.

“I never said that.” She countered, “I never said that he will always take his time, I said that he doesn’t like to compete. So, if that’s what you’re trying to do, it won’t work on him. He can get things done in no time, believe you me. But that’s because he’s an efficient man on his own and no one is chasing him. The last guy who was here that worked here kept trying to motivate him by working faster and faster. Gerard grabbed him by the ear and threw him out, fired him right there. Brendon’s ears were big enough as it is without Gerard always grabbing him by the poor things.”

“Wow.” Frank raised both eyebrows in surprise, “Really doesn’t like showboating then?”

“Not a huge fan of braggadocio, no.” Lindsey shook her head, “Another thing I should mention…”

“Yeah?” Frank frowned as she took one more sip of her juice.

“Gerard’s very… Um, how do I put this lightly?” She frowned, leaning back in her chair with her hands clasped, “He’s very forceful.”

“Tell me about it.” Frank scoffed.

“No, I mean,” She sighed, “I don’t know if he told you or not so I don’t want to just blurt out what isn’t my personal affairs.”

“In what way?”

“Gerard’s… Well, he’s- he’s a dominant male.” Lindsey explained and Frank shrugged, nodding to himself.

“Well, yeah, I figured that much. I can tell.”

“But do you understand what I’m telling you, Frank?” She sat up again, her face stark of any and all joking, “In a sexual way.”

“He’s sexually dominant?” Frank asked, “Well, yeah, I figured. He’s a top.”

“No I-I mean…” She sighed, “Hell, if any of these tips work then you’ll figure it out sooner or later.”

“Yeah, ‘if’ being the selective word in that sentence.” Frank scoffed again, “You should have seen the way he looked at me…”

“He was probably in work-mode and frustrated. Yesterday was a hard day for him. It was for all of us.” Lindsey’s face turned bleak slightly and she looked down.

“Why?”

“Didn’t he tell you?” She looked up in surprise and Frank’s gaze mirrored it, hinted with confusion, “Yesterday one of our grant sponsors had to pull out of the campaign. One of our more wealthy sponsors. We’ll be losing over fifty grand a month now.”

“Oh, my God.” Frank’s eyes widened, “Why?”

“Economy isn’t steady at the moment and stocks are falling low. A lot of people are pulling out of investments early.” Lindsey shrugged, “He was on the phone almost all day trying to sort it out but it was for naught.”

“I had no idea.” Frank muttered, suddenly feeling guilty, “God, no wonder he snapped at me.”

“I don’t think he meant to, in all honesty. I think that’s what upset him even more. He lashed out at you. I think he was just stressed and you got too close too quickly, he snapped out of instinct. He’s not used to having someone so close to him like you are. His last proper partner or lover or anything of the sort was about… Oh, a year or so ago. Poor boy.”

“Why did they break up?” Frank frowned, intrigued.

“He left the country.” Lindsey pursed her lips, “Adam. Lovely boy. He was from Brazil and he was here on a working visa, it expired and he was sent home. They drifted apart.”

“That’s so sad…” Frank muttered, frowning down at his hands, “I take it he’s had quite a few partners.”

“Uh, he’s had three long-term and a few flings along the way.”

“Adam included in those three?” Frank asked hopefully and Lindsey nodded, “I feel like such a square with only having dated Ryan.”

“It’s cute about you. You have an innocent charm to you that I think he was drawn to. Not so much ‘virginal’ obviously, that would annoy him. But… Innocence.”

“Oh?” Frank felt his cheeks tint pink and he looked down, frowning when he caught sight of his wrists, “I didn’t think I was very innocent.”

“You poor angel, you have no idea.” She chuckled and he looked up.

“Is that what he likes about me?”

“Well, I think one of the things. I think he also likes how different you are in general, and your passion. You remind him of a younger, reckless version of himself.” She chuckled, “But in the good way, not the ‘stick-up-your-ass’ way.”

“Oh, good.” Frank chuckled, wringing his wrists when he sighed, noting the time, “Lunchtime is already done. I didn’t realize how long I'd been out.”

“Well, you better go before the stick in his ass decides to move and he gets crabby.” She waved Frank off with a bright smile, “And thank you for my lunch, sweetie.”

“Thanks for the advice.” Frank got up, stretching slightly before he went lax, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair, “You get those roses in some water.”

“I will.” She smiled, putting a hand on them as Frank took his sandwich and his juice and walked to the door, realizing he hadn’t eaten any of his food. He opened the door, throwing Lindsey one last smile before he walked out. He walked back into his office, taking a large gulp of his juice before capping it and setting it down, adjusting his tie in the reflection of his computer monitor.

“She like the flowers?” Derek asked idly and Frank chuckled, nodding.

“Always well-received,” Frank replied, turning to look at Derek.

“You or the flowers?”

“Was I well-received?” Frank frowned, “What?”

“Nothing. Gerard’s looking for you.” Derek shrugged and Frank felt himself go cold inside as his eyes automatically widened.

“Did-Did he say why? Did he sound mad?” Frank asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the slight wobble at the end of his question.

“Mad? No- Why?” Derek frowned, “Why would he be mad at you? You’re the golden boy; you do no wrong in here.”

“Oh, I do 'wrong'…” Frank sighed, “Maybe not to Lindsey but to him I definitely do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What did you do?” Derek turned completely away from his computer and Frank shook his head.

“Nothing.” He sighed, looking himself once over before he turned and walked to the door, knocking, waiting for Gerard’s approval for him to enter.

“In.” Gerard stated simply and Frank sucked in a breath, whispering a soft 'Hail Mary' before he opened the door.

“ _Oh_?” Frank whispered softly when he looked at his boss, noting the pair of black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, something he’d never seen before.

“I was out this morning to fetch them.” Gerard obviously noticed Frank’s surprise at his new eyewear, “Apparently I need them when I work.”

“They look good on you, sir.” Frank replied simply as he clasped his hands behind his back obediently, “You were looking for me?”

Gerard pursed his lips, “I can’t find where you put the Michaelis folder.”

“Oh,” Frank smiled as he walked over to Gerard’s desk and dug in the box of files that stood in the corner, searching for the file he had put there that morning before Gerard got in, “Put it in here.”

“Did anyone else take it?” Gerard asked as he leaned in and Frank shook his head.

“No one came in here while you were out.” He sighed before letting out a small ‘ah’, pulling out the folder before he slid it over to Gerard with a smile, “That’s for you, sir.”

“Frank?”

“Sir?”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Gerard pushed his glasses up on his nose, “What happened to your wrists?”

“Oh- Shit-” Frank cursed softly under his breath, completely forgetting about the bruises on his wrists when he clasped a hand around one of them and then shoved his hands behind his back, blushing profusely, “No-Nothing.”

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked and then looked up at Frank, scrutinizing him as Frank began walking backward towards the door, “Frank?”

“I have- Um- I have work to do.”

“Stop,” Gerard ordered and Frank froze in place, whimpering under his breath. His knees began to shake, watching as Gerard got up from behind his desk and sauntered over with the usual confidence to his walk. Frank sucked in a breath as Gerard reached behind him and took one of Frank’s arms in his hand, pulling it forward as he inspected it. Frank stared up at Gerard as the latter reached out, closing the office door behind Frank, his face souring, eyes narrowed as he ran a thumb over Frank’s purple wrist, “Who did this?”

“Wh- No- I…” Frank began, sounding appalled as Gerard took the other wrist in his hand, looking them over, “No one.”

“These are leather bites.” Gerard looked up, his jaw clenched, tone hard and clipped, “Frank?”

“Oh-Oh, God. I-I can explain…” Frank winced, waiting for Gerard to yell about how inappropriate it was to have such things on display in the workplace, waiting for him to go off about how Frank should know better.

“I wish you would.” Gerard quipped, his grip tightening for a second when Frank noticed the souring, recognizing it. Gerard was jealous of, what he assumed to be, Frank’s lover’s marks on his body.

“What’s it of your business who did this to me, sir?” Frank asked innocently, tilting his head to the side as Gerard’s brows furrowed, his eyes trained on Frank’s bruised skin.

“It’s…” Gerard looked up at Frank, “None of my business.”

“Then why do you care who did this to me or how or why?” Frank asked, his voice dripping an innocence unlike any other, watching Gerard’s temple throb slightly as his tongue seemed to toy around in his mouth, fighting for the right words.

“Because I don’t want anyone hurting you. Anyone else.” Gerard scowled.

“What if I wanted it then?” Frank shot back, “What if I wanted them to hurt me? That’s still none of your business.”

“No…” Gerard trailed off, the edge to his voice could cut steel, “I said. I don’t want anyone _else_ hurting you, Frank.”

“Do you want to hurt me?” Frank asked coyly as Gerard reached up, pinning Frank against the wall, making him yelp softly in surprise and in pain, Gerard’s eyes scanning his intensely, intrinsically.

“More than you know… Boy.” Gerard whispered, “No one else touches you. Never again. Do you understand me?”

“But, sir…” Frank whispered, another lightbulb going off in his head as he recounted Lindsey’s jealousy advice, deciding then to take it up just one more notch, “I can’t help it if my wrists are tied, how am I to stop what happens then?”

“I- You…” Gerard’s face took on a slight red tint that Frank could almost attest and akin to anger, “Stop what happens? _What_ happens?”

Frank looked down, trying to hide the grin that wanted so badly to spread on his lips as he wriggled his hands free from Gerard’s grip and unfasted his tie slowly, watching Gerard’s hard gaze on his hands. He unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, trying not to go too fast, keeping Gerard practically on edge before he showed off his carpet-burned skin, showing Gerard the bruised and scraped flesh on his chest that he didn’t announce the origins of, waiting to see what Gerard would do.

“Carpet burn?” Gerard’s eyebrows furrowed lightly and Frank could practically see the cogs and gears turning in Gerard’s head. What he did do was not what Frank had expected, he hadn’t expected the warmth of Gerard’s mouth on his, he hadn’t expected the sudden invasion of a tongue in his mouth but he welcomed it, reveled in it. He let out a moan as Gerard pinned him to the wall, muffling his whimpers as he kissed him heatedly. One of Gerard’s hands trailed up Frank’s stomach and his chest, fingertips grazing over the tainted- sensitive- flesh and over Frank’s throat. The very same hand was then in Frank’s hair in a tight grip that had him cry out softly, Gerard’s free hand clamping down on the younger’s mouth.

“You keep yourself quiet. And I never said you could let anyone else touch you. And no one else will.” Gerard hissed softly. Frank let out a whimper behind Gerard’s hand, his tongue extending as he lapped softly at Gerard’s fingers, groaning as those same fingers slid into his mouth. Gerard let out the smallest of shudders as Frank sucked on his fingers, tongue lapping slowly at each of the two digits as his heart raced, feeling Gerard’s other three free fingers clamp onto his jaw.

“Don’t think you can get out of this so easily, boy.” Gerard dug his fingertips into Frank’s jaw to pull him closer, their faces an inch apart, “I told you about consequences, and now you’ll learn.”

Frank had been completely taken by surprise. It may have been the best surprise, seeing as he wasn’t expecting Gerard to react the way he had done. Watching him look like someone had rearranged his world right in front of his eyes, messing with everything that he had in order, that was basically what it looked like for Frank. How Gerard looked so frustrated, angry, jealous, clearly bothered to the point that he had acted out. Frank didn’t know that Gerard was going to act out just because of what he had said, but if he had known that Gerard was going to behave like that just based on words, then he would have said it much sooner.

Frank knew that he had gotten to him. Saying what he had said in a suggestive enough manner when Gerard had spotted his wrists. Frank had found a weakness in his usually strong boss, thanks to Lindsey. That weakness clearly had raged inside of Gerard almost instantly. Like pouring gas onto something flammable before lighting a match, he had lost control and it was like an inferno raged inside of him, consuming him. The jealousy leaking out into his expression. So easy to read, even for Frank. That look that Gerard had in his eyes made Frank shudder, a shiver running from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, that really was a look that made him feel like putty.

It was like he had found a switch in Gerard, turning him from this cold and distant person who wanted nothing to do with what they had before, to the man who had grabbed hold of the back of Frank’s hair, tugging him close. Switch for switch, Frank had his switch flipped by Gerard and now he felt it only fair to reciprocate. Gerard ignored the yelp that had left Frank because it got muffled the moment that he crushed his lips against Frank's stammering pout. A kiss that signified that there had to be something there. Gerard clearly wasn’t done with him, probably only just beginning. He was finally coming round to the idea as he pushed Frank backward, his back coming in contact with a wall. Frank had gasped, the pain resonating from his spine and shoulders. It felt good to be controlled by him like that, being held still, his hand still holding onto his hair roughly. Gerard held him in place while he grazed his teeth on Frank's bottom lip, tugging on his lip ring, making a whine escape him uncontrollably.

Frank couldn’t help it. Gerard had such an effect on him that he let him take charge, squeezing him between the wall and his body. He tried to kiss back, trying to mimic the force behind the kiss, but Frank was weakened, totally under Gerard's control while they continued to kiss. This was so much more intense than Frank thought they would get. How they had got before. This wasn’t just the two of them making out like they were teenagers who were desperate for their first time. There was something a little more intense behind the kiss. The experienced leading the inexperienced. The elder making the younger want nothing more than what was taking over him. Frank tried to breathe through his nose when Gerard kissed harder, only pulling away for a second when his glasses were getting in the way, taking them off before tossing them onto his desk. There was so much tension and energy behind the kiss, he swore that if Gerard didn’t have him pinned against the wall then he would have fallen minutes ago. Succumbing to him, feeling weak to finally have him again. Gerard was with him again and Frank was not going to let this moment pass by as nothing. How could it be nothing when Gerard was pushing his tongue past his lips, wedging his knee between Frank’s legs, the pressure right where Frank was desperate to feel it, this had to be something. There had to be more to this than just actions.

Frank let out a whimper when Gerard broke free from him. His hand was still in his hair and he tugged, pulling Frank from the wall, practically dragging him over to his desk. Frank let out a muffled sound of relief when Gerard removed his hand from his hair. The sting from where he had been holding him so tightly still rang out across his scalp, but it felt good. A weird kind of good that went straight to where Frank knew it would go. His work pants beginning to get uncomfortably tight as Gerard sat himself down in his chair, legs spread apart while he watched Frank. His hand wandered, going for the crotch of the navy suit pants he was wearing, massaging himself, letting out a low groan that hit Frank’s ears and resonated harder than he thought it would. Gerard sounding like that again, Gerard being like this with him again, but it was so much more now. The dominant side that Lindsey had mentioned had clearly reared its head and Frank knew that he had probably brought it on even more by making him envious.

Frank wanted to watch Gerard more than anything, his eyes refusing to move, focused on the way Gerard’s hand was moving across his crotch. The line of his erection becoming more noticeable. Frank wanted that, he wanted him, wanted to just reach out and touch what Gerard already had his hand on, but something stopped him. Frank found himself averting his eyes, almost feeling like he didn’t have the right to look. Something in him paused, taking a moment to wait because this was Gerard and this was worlds different from what he was used to, more perverted in the best way possible. He looked away, fighting every fiber in his body when he heard the sound of a belt being undone. The quiet sound that seemed so loud to Frank because he wanted Gerard again so badly. Anyone could walk in at any given moment and it made everything far more exciting for Frank because he had only dreamt of something like this.

“How you have infuriated me,” Gerard spat out, the jealous venom still spilling out on his words. Frank tried to remain calm, ignoring the fact that his heart was thumping a mile a minute in his chest when he caught a glimpse of Gerard undoing his pants, pushing them down. No matter how pissed of Gerard was with him, it had fueled all of this. Without those marks, he probably wouldn’t have been here right now, trying not to stare as Gerard freed himself from his underwear, stroking himself, “Such an unscrupulous reprobate with loose morals.”  
  
Frank had no idea what Gerard had said to him, but the words were having such an effect on him, making his insides feel like they were twisting up. The tone making Frank turn to a puddle of submissive goo in his expensive shoes.  
  
“On your knees,” Gerard ordered. Frank did as he was told, dropping down to his knees before he looked at Gerard, seeing the way that he was staring him down. The covetousness still clouding his eyes, darkening them; it made Frank want to do nothing but obey- follow his every word. He swallowed hard, nibbling on his bottom lip as Gerard spoke to him again, “You’re nothing but an unwrought little playboy. You have your dirty little nose stuck into matters about which you have no idea.”  
  
Frank practically whimpered at the insult. The way Gerard was talking to him while he still had a hand on his dick. All Frank wanted to do was reach out and touch the one thing he wanted, the only person that he wanted. Frank just felt like he couldn’t, he should wait until he was told; wait until Gerard gave him permission. Only then could he reach out and touch the man that he desired so much.  
  
“Such a puerile, depraved and lascivious runt,” Gerard growled out, watching the way that Frank had become mesmerized, his eyes motionless. He watched Gerard run his thumb over the head of his dick, practically torturing him, letting him watch what he wanted so badly. Frank went to reach out, unable to stop himself when he had his deity right in front of him, his hand so close to touching, but he was stopped. Frank pulled his hand back with a small yelp, feeling the pain resonating through his skull from where Gerard had just slapped across the side of his head, looking down at him with a sneer, “You think you deserve this? Do you think that I’m going to let you touch me after the way you have behaved?”  
  
Frank wanted to nod, only because Gerard had no idea that the marks on his wrists and chest hadn’t been caused by another person. They had been his own doing, but Frank knew that he couldn’t just admit that he had brought them on all by himself. It still didn’t stop Frank from nodding, only because he was practically dying on the inside to be with Gerard again.  
  
“Perfidious little boy,” Gerard scoffed, his free hand going to grab at Frank's hair, pulling him closer. Frank held a groan behind his lips, biting down on his bottom lip to stifle himself. Gerard kept a tight hold of his hair, the sting spreading across his scalp when he was dragged forward. He was so close to what he wanted, being pulled between Gerard’s open legs before he noticed Gerard adjust in his chair, draping his legs on either side of Frank's thighs, holding him in place, “A dog should never forget who his master is.”  
  
He wondered if Gerard would stop him if he tried to lean forward and do something to him. Gerard still had a hand in his hair, still holding onto him so tightly that it made Frank feel powerless but in a way that was going straight to his dick, making him shift uncomfortably. All he wanted was to be liberated and able to take Gerard into his mouth, he ached to feel that weight so much more than he had the first time for just a few seconds. Gerard was pulling him closer, the hand in his hair controlled him while his free hand held his dick still, pulling Frank’s face right against it, rubbing his length against Frank's mouth messily.  
  
How could Frank resist now when he had it pushed right in his face. Every sinew in his being was willing for Gerard to just use his mouth and let him do whatever he wanted, but Frank couldn’t stop when it was right there. His tongue slipped out, lapping at the underside of his dick. Frank heard the way Gerard’s breath caught with a small inhale, his eyes trained on Frank, watching him lick a wet line all the way from the base to the tip, his tongue circling the head before rolling over the slit, making Gerard groan.

The pair locked eyes for a moment as Gerard kept a firm grip on his dick, smearing it across Frank's mouth, spit slicking across his lips. He tried to get a taste, bursting at the seams to have Gerard in his mouth, to finally properly blow him. Their ‘next time’ as Gerard had stated that night. There was nothing that was going to stop Frank, not even Gerard could not stop him halfway through by trying to suggest something else. He was achingly hard over the idea of having Gerard in his mouth, fucking his mouth if he wanted. Frank couldn’t focus on anything else when Gerard stilled, resting the head of his dick against Frank’s bottom lip.

“Suck, boy. Put your pretty mouth to good use for once,” He instructed, hand still in Frank's hair, guiding him onto his length. Frank keened around him, taking as much as he could into his mouth. Gerard cursed softly under his breath, not letting go of Frank's hair while he tried to control him, pulling him up and down on his dick, “You contemptible, vulgar and amative pup.”

Frank groaned at the eloquent slander, his tongue flat against the underside of Gerard's dick, feeding off the verbal abuse thrown at him. He had no idea what Gerard was saying to him but he knew it wasn’t positive, or he wouldn’t have been the way that he was, forcing Frank down on his dick as far as he could, barely giving him time to breathe when his gag reflex kicked in. Frank couldn’t deny that he was loving being used like this in such a public space. He had dreamed of having Gerard in their place of work, but it actually happening, with the way he was being commanded, it made his blood thrum under his skin. He hollowed out his cheeks, trying to take as much of Gerard into the back of his mouth as possible, gagging again as tears welled in his eyes

“Fuck…” Gerard groaned out, tilting his head back against his chair while Frank bobbed down at his behest, his internal fire raging on pure appetence to please the man whose knees he was situated between. Frank knew he was slobbering uncontrollably now but he didn’t care, he was doing his best to swirl his tongue over every inch of Gerard’s length but it all became too much. He fought against the strong grip that had hold of him and pulled off, gasping for air. His mouth was swollen and aching, saliva dribbled across his chin and down onto his neck and exposed chest, eyes watering, tears mingling with his spit. He licked at the strings of spit that connected himself to Gerard, who praised him with a rough tint to his calm voice, “That mouth of yours is unbelievable. Absolutely exquisite.”

Frank took the praise, not hesitating to get his mouth back on his boss, continuing to astound him with his actions. Gerard was stuttering out near-silent moans when Frank rolled his tongue over the slit, tasting the bitter-sweet precome while he stared up, watching the way Gerard was reacting to his every move. Frank couldn’t stop himself, looking up at the wonder that was the man for which he had completely fallen. He reached down between his legs, getting a grip on his own dick, so sensitive and aching, confined by his pants. He was so close just from blowing his boss, so turned on just by having his dick in his mouth, making his jaw protest, making his whole body palpitate at the idea of pleasing Gerard.

This was better than a sex toy; having Gerard himself wanting Frank to do this to him. Frank knew that someone could have walked in at any moment. Derek might even have heard what was going on behind the shut door. Frank palmed himself through his slacks, moaning as he wrapped his lips back around Gerard, getting closer to his orgasm while he bobbed back down, letting Gerard take control again.

“Such an ignominious and detestable excuse- Fuck, ah,” Gerard panted, his hips snapping up to meet Frank, getting a firmer grip on the brunette strands of his hair, continuing to roll his hips up, using Frank’s mouth which only made him rub himself more through his work pants, “-excuse of a boy.”

Frank felt Gerard hold him in place while he continued to push up into his mouth. Frank wanted to breathe but he was unable to while Gerard continued to thrust into his mouth- His own body focused more on the impending climax rather than his need for air. The idea of choking on Gerard’s dick, much like he actually was, had Frank practically coming in his work pants, the lack of oxygen making his vision fuzzy, that along with his eyes streaming a constant flurry of tears. Frank screwed his eyes shut, his lungs burning, his head spinning. He could feel Gerard in his throat, pushing unrelentingly when every wash of emotion came over him. He still with his hand down between his legs, rubbing himself desperately when he came, body convulsing at the force of the orgasm. His legs were shaking, the muffled moans that he could get out were vibrating against Gerard. He felt like he had been pulled apart and put back together instantaneously while his brain whited out. He sobbed a muffled moan, pawing at his boss’s calf as he rode out the fizzles.

“Did I give you permission to do that?” Gerard asked with a repulsed curl to his lip, a belittling glint in his eye that had a shower of shame pour down over Frank’s head as he slowed to look down at the boy between his legs, “Indecent animal.”

Frank couldn’t help it, still eating up the insults, his whole body feeling like jelly while he continued to tease Gerard with his tongue languidly. His actions became sloppy, his body drained from the intensity of his own orgasm, but that didn’t stop Gerard. His hand gripped onto Frank's hair tighter, bottom lip pinched between his teeth before he muttered out that he wasn’t done with him. Frank wasn’t getting out of this easily and he knew it, seeing as Gerard started up what he had slowed down; fucking Frank's mouth and using him for his own pleasure now that he had got his own without any consent.

It wasn’t long before Frank could tell that Gerard was close. The grip he had in Frank's hair was unbelievable tight, holding him still. His thrusts became sharper, his breathing faltering before he halted; his whole body tensed up before he cursed, coming into Frank's mouth as he rutted his hips erratically. Frank coughed around the bitter taste of come that half-filled his mouth. His instinct was to immediately pull off, but he couldn’t move as he was held in place. The pulse of Gerard’s orgasm strong against Frank's tongue, come leaking out of his mouth when he failed to hold it all in and swallow it like he was used to. It felt weird but amazing all at once when Frank finally felt Gerard's hand move from his hair, going limp against his leg while he pulled off. He looked up at Gerard from under wet lashes whilst he licked at the mess of come, spit, and tears that was rolling down his chin. Frank sat back down on his feet, taking a moment to assess what the fuck had just happened, panting as he watched Gerard redress, doing up his pants before fastening his belt. Frank wanted to excuse himself for a second while he buttoned his shirt. He needed to go and clean up but he was far too interested in watching Gerard, seeing how he looked after it all. He didn’t seem so jealous anymore, a lot more content with Frank when he looked at him.

“Don’t think you are off the hook, boy,” Gerard spoke, breaking the silence that now filled the office, “I am still very disappointed in you.”

“Of course, sir.”


	31. The Crystal Lake Killer isn’t Going to Ease that Situation

“May I get up, sir?”

“Go.” Gerard sighed softly, his voice still soft but the stern edge never leaving for a wavering second. Frank had gotten up off of the floor, ignoring the ache in his knees as Gerard sat in his desk chair, his cheeks pink and eyes blown out. Frank smiled proudly at the expression on his boss’ face as he wiped his hand over his mouth just in case, feeling the taste still lingering- and he hoped it would for ages, “Don’t think I’m not on to you.”

“Whatever do you mean, sir?” Frank asked innocently as he walked over to the mirror behind Gerard’s door, fixing his hair before he turned and looked at Gerard, biting on his lip as his tongue trailed over the back of his teeth, his piercing tickling the roof of his mouth.

“Don’t think that you got away with your little game. I know you did that on purpose. I know you wanted to get a rise out of me.” Gerard cleared his throat, frowning at the papers on his desk, “What I fail to comprehend is why.”

“Actually, I genuinely forgot about them.” Frank shrugged nonchalantly as he caught Gerard’s suspicious gaze as he wandered over, perching himself over the corner of Gerard’s desk, “But even if that was my plan, it looked like it worked. I definitely did get a rise out of you… In more ways than one. But you started it, sir. You’re the one who taught the misbehaving dog a lesson. You’re the Master.”

Gerard swallowed uneasily at the last word that rolled far too easily from Frank’s all-too-skilled tongue and he eyed his assistant ruefully, “You’re just trying to wear me down, aren’t you? Because of the way I acted yesterday.”

“So what if I am?” Frank asked innocently, “Is that so wrong? Is it so awful to want you the way I do when I know you feel the same? To have what I need most...”

“How do you know that?” Gerard scoffed and Frank raised his eyebrow.

“If you didn’t want me, you wouldn’t have come in my mouth.”

“Fair point.” Gerard leaned back in his chair, elbow resting on the armrest as he tapped his chin thoughtfully with his index finger, “A very fair point.”

“Thanks.” Frank smiled.

“But…” Gerard began and Frank groaned unhappily.

“No ‘but’. I hate that ‘but’.”

“Unfortunately, Frank…” Gerard steepled his fingers, “You know where I stand on this. I said 'no'.”

“But why…” Frank whined unhappily, almost bouncing where he sat like a child who was just denied his favorite candy, “Why-y-y…”

“Frank enough.” Gerard pressed firmly, ‘I said no. 'No' means no, boy.”

“But I-”

“Frank!” Gerard snapped suddenly, his voice rising, making Frank jump in fright, and his mouth snap shut instantly, “I said no. And that’s quite enough from you.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank whispered softly, looking down at his one leg that was still perched on the desk and swinging lazily.

“Off my desk.” Gerard ordered simply and Frank hopped off, “Lord knows, you can behave better than this.”

Frank didn’t reply to that comment as he walked around Gerard’s chair to the expansive bookshelf behind him, scanning and scrolling through the titles, most in English and some in French. They varied from Literature to Poetry to books on and about Politics and History. Frank didn’t know what half of it meant but he kept going, remembering what Lindsey had said about Gerard’s fascination with romance and poetry, wondering if he should perhaps try another approach.

“Whoa.” He muttered as he spotted a book bound in crimson leather, the material looking authentic and old, the embellished words having lost their luster, “This book must be decades old.”

“Be careful.” Gerard was suddenly at Frank’s side, silent motions that he had grown accustomed to by now, “It’s over a hundred years old, boy.”

“Wow…” Frank peered at the title, “It’s French?”

“It is…” Gerard nodded as he took the book from the shelf and held it in his hands, “I have the English version at home but it’s not very fitting for a working environment.”

“Then why have the French one here?” Frank frowned as Gerard ran a finger over the book.

“Because I am the only one here who knows the language, so only I can understand what is hidden in these pages.”

“And what, uh,” Frank cleared his throat, “What exactly is in those pages?”

“Do you know who the Marquis de Sade is, Frank?” Gerard eyed him as he wandered over to his chair and sat down, a leg folded over the other with the book in his lap. Frank bit his lip, thinking for a moment before he shook his head, “The Marquis de Sade, or Donatien Alphonse Francois, was a French nobleman.”

“Right.” Frank walked over to the chair across from Gerard’s desk and flopped into it, listening intently as Gerard decided to carry on with his sudden storytime.

“He was a revolutionary politician and a philosopher and a writer, as you can see. He was also famous for his libertine sexuality. He wrote all sorts of things, mind you. He’s best known for his erotic works that combined philosophical discourse with pornography. He depicted sexual fantasies with an emphasis on violence, criminality, and blasphemy against Christianity. He was a proponent of extreme freedom and he was unrestrained by morality or religion or the law. In fact, the words ‘sadism’ and ‘sadist’ are derived from his very name.” Gerard looked at Frank, who was more than mildly impressed.

“Sounds like a dude you could really have a beer with.” Was Frank’s only comment, “So, what’s the book about then?”

“It’s one of Marquis’ most debauched works. It’s called ‘The 120 Days of Sodom’ or as it was originally titled ‘Salò’.” Gerard smirked and Frank frowned deeply.

“Sounds like anal.” Frank snickered, “Y’know, sodomy.”

“Very apt of you, boy. Yes, that is the point.” Gerard replied, sounding rather bored.

“Oh.” Frank went pink, “So- So, what’s it about?”

“Four fascists kidnap young men and women and subject them to torture and perversion.” Gerard opened the book cover carefully and Frank stared at it in horror, silently wondering to himself why Gerard would own such a thing, let alone have it with him in his office.

“How so?” Frank choked out, his voice sounding thick and strangled as he stared at the bound pages, his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

“The novel takes place over five months, November to March,” Gerard explained as Frank readjusted and leaned forward, listening intently as he laid his chin on his fist, propping himself up, “Four wealthy libertines lock themselves in a castle along with a number of victims and accomplices. Since they state that the sensations produced by the organs of hearing are the most erotic, they intend to listen to various tales of depravity from four prostitutes, which inspires them to engage in similar activities with their victims.”

“Oh, I see.” Frank nodded, “Then what?”

“For each of the first four months, November to February, the prostitutes take turns to tell five stories each day, relating to the fetishes of their most interesting clients, and thus totaling in one-hundred-and-fifty stories for each month. These passions are separated into four categories: simple, complex, criminal, and murderous- Escalating in complexity and savagery.”

“Wait,” Frank frowned, “What’s in each of those categories, though? Like, I thought sex was sex with a different choice of holes.”

Gerard stared at him for a long moment, an intense gaze that had Frank feeling as though he had done something wrong, his feet turning inward and his gaze turning elsewhere when Gerard spoke, “My dear boy, if those are your thoughts on sex then I pity you greatly.”

“Well, then go on. Explain it.” Frank urged, “I wanna know.”

“You’re lucky I know this by heart,” Gerard looked at the book, “The ‘simple’ passions were first, taking place in November, as I believe. These anecdotes are the only ones written in detail. They are only considered 'simple' in terms of them not including actual sexual penetration. The anecdotes include men who like to masturbate in the faces of seven-year-old girls, and indulge in urine drinking and coprophagia.”

“In what?”

“Coprophagia.” Gerard nodded, “The sexual fetish of excrement.”

“Like ‘taking a dump on your chest’ kind of thing, right?”

“To a point, yes.”

“That’s not at all disgusting.” Frank pulled a face, grimacing at the thought, “Ew.”

“Well, Frank, if you think about it this way. Anal sex is closely linked to coprophagia much to people’s dismay. It’s the same area whether they like it or not; the only difference is that the one instance you recognize that it’s actually someone’s asshole and the other time you try and not think about it because of the fact that it’s actually someone’s asshole.” Gerard put his glasses back on with a knowing glance at his assistant. Frank stared at Gerard for the longest time, trying not to let it make sense in his head, trying not to think about it or the fact that Gerard swore.

“I’ll let you ruminate on that for a while next time you have someone buried inside of you, Frank. As I was saying,” Gerard cleared his throat as Frank’s entire face lit up beet red, his gaze on the nearest object as Gerard continued his explanation, “As they do throughout the story-telling sections, the four libertines- Blangis, the Bishop, Curval, and Durcet- indulge in activities, similar to those they've heard, with their daughters and the kidnapped children.”

“Hang on…” Frank sat up straighter, “Children?”

“They took a number of people like their own sons and daughters, other children, teenagers of both sexes, and old women.”

“What the actual fuck?” Frank was disgusted, “Why would you read that?”

“I’ll get to that later,” Gerard smiled somewhat purposedly, “In December, December… The ‘complex’ passions. These anecdotes involve more extravagant perversions, such as men who vaginally rape female children, indulge in incest and flagellation.”

“Flage-what?”

“Flagellation,” Gerard nodded, “Flogging or beating, either as a religious discipline or for sexual gratification.”

“Whoa…” Frank muttered, “That’s… Whoa. What happens next, though? Do I wanna know?”

“Tales of men who indulge in sacrilegious activities are also recounted,” Gerard’s face went hard for a second, his jaw clenching before he relaxed somewhat, “Such as a man who enjoyed having sex with nuns whilst watching Mass being performed. The female children are deflowered vaginally during the evening orgies with other elements of that month's stories- such as whipping- occasionally thrown in.”

“Gross.” Frank muttered, scowling at the table as though it were to blame, completely and utterly horrified at the piece of oak furniture, “I doubt it gets any better.”

“January,” Gerard started as though recounting his memories of the book would be the answer to Frank’s question, “The ‘criminal’ passions; tales are told of perverts who indulge in criminal activities, albeit stopping short of murder.”

“Oh no, because 'murder' is too far in January.” Frank scoffed, sitting back with his arms folded as Gerard tried to hide the smirk on his face at Frank’s unsettled demeanor.

“They include men who sodomize girls as young as three, men who prostitute their own daughters to other perverts and watch the proceedings, and others who mutilate women by tearing off fingers or burning them with red-hot pokers. During the month, the four libertines begin having anal sex with the sixteen male and female children who, along with the other victims, are treated more brutally as time goes on, with regular beatings and whippings.”

“Jesus…” Frank started to feel nauseous as he readjusted in his chair yet again, looking at the book as though it were about to run up and bite his arm off, or like a poisonous bug. Frank hated bugs, “I don’t like any of this.”

“And the final month was February,” Gerard merely continued as though Frank hadn’t even spoken, “February. The ‘murderous’ passions. The final one-hundred-and-fifty anecdotes are those involving murder. They include perverts who skin children alive, disembowel pregnant women, burn alive entire families, and kill newborn babies in front of their mothers.”

“Wait, what?” Frank was abhorred, “You’re fucking kidding? This is like a horror movie or some shit. Where’s Jason when you need him?”

“The Crystal Lake killer isn’t going to ease the situation, Frank.”

“Does it get worse, though?” Frank raised an eyebrow, “It can’t get worse, c’mon. They killed babies.”

“The final tale is the only one since the ‘simple’ passions of November written in detail. It features the 'Hell Libertine' who masturbates while watching fifteen teenage girls being simultaneously tortured to death.” Gerard eyed Frank then, who shrunk in his seat and fumed in silence at Gerard’s obvious recant of his statement, “During this month, the libertines brutally kill three of the four daughters they have between them, along with four of the female children and two of the male ones. The murder of one of the girls, fifteen-year-old Augustine, is described in great detail, with the tortures she is subjected to including having flesh stripped from her limbs, her vagina being mutilated, and her intestines being pulled out of her sliced-open belly, and burned.”

“Are you done?”

“March, this is the shortest of the segments,” Gerard merely chuckled at Frank’s previous question, clearly enjoying himself as he made Frank wish he hadn’t asked to hear about the book in question, He ran a finger along the spine of th book delicately, “Sade summarising things even more by this final point in the novel. He lists the days on which the surviving children and many of the other characters are disposed of, although he does not give any details. Instead, he leaves a footnote to himself pointing out his intention on detailing things more in a future revision.”

“You honestly worry me.” Frank stood up, feeling as though sitting wasn’t enough for this particular moment. His body just couldn’t handle being still as he processed everything that had been recalled for him from within the yellowed pages.

“It is perhaps significant that Sade was interested in the manner in which sexual fetishes are developed. As are his primary characters, who urge the storytellers to remind them in the later stages, as to what the client in that particular anecdote enjoyed doing in their younger years,” Gerard commented and Frank turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“How so?”

“There are a number of recurring figures such as a man who, in the early tales, enjoys pricking women's breasts with pins and, at his reappearance in the tales in the 'murderous passions' category, delights in killing women by raping them atop a bed of nails.” Gerard swapped legs, draping the left now over the right all-too-casually as his eyes stayed fixated on Frank in the corner of the office, who was almost hiding behind a tall potted plant.

“I see… And, uh- if you don’t mind my asking…” Frank fidgeted again, pushing a lengthy leaf from in front of his face, “Why- Why do you have this, again?”

“Well, first off, boy,” Gerard set the book down carefully, “What you need to understand is that this isn't just a book. This book coined the start of the entire lifestyle of bondage and Sado-Masochism.”

“That’s whips and chains and shit, right?”

“To put it as lightly as possible.” Gerard nodded, “The entire lifestyle itself is not to be toyed and played with until you understand it, understand the actual horror behind it, and the dangers of getting too close. You never mess with things of which you are never fully aware. The lifestyle itself was started so long ago, over three hundred years perhaps, and the main points of it are that it’s not for any one of the faintest of heart or stomach. Many people have died from it.”

“Wow…” Frank whispered, his eyes now fixated on the book, “I didn’t know that.”

“Not many people do.” Gerard nodded as he set the book back in its safe place of the shelf, “Which is rather sad considering how many people are, or try to be, involved with it. It takes a skill and finesse, and a whole other mindset to be a part of it.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, boy?”

“Are- I mean…” Frank felt his cheeks flood with color, “Does it… Interest you?”

There was silence at that moment, a deafening reticence like the one that rings out after a gunshot in a crowd. Frank dared a glance up at Gerard who was standing at his bookshelf, his hand still poised over the book, his back to his now-shied assistant.

“That’s a very personal question, Frank.” Gerard turned and looked at him, standing at his desk with his arms folded firmly.

“As ‘personal’ as your dick officially in two different parts of my body?” Frank shot back as he stepped away from the plant, and one or two steps closer to his boss, “I think I’m entitled to one personal question.”

“What if I don’t feel like answering?” Gerard raised a poignant eyebrow as chagrin settled in Frank’s stomach, a feeling of almost realization-sized epiphany.

“Then that answers it for me.” Frank bit his lip, “You are, aren’t you? That’s… That’s why you’re… You.”

“Frank, don’t start with this.”

“But- But it makes sense, though.” Frank looked at Gerard as he stayed his distance from him, looking at him, “It’s why you’re so- I mean, I don’t know jack shit about bondage but I know there’s a ‘dominant’ person and a person who does what they’re told-”

“Submissive.”

“See!” Frank shot back and Gerard pursed his lips, putting his hands in his pockets, leaning on one foot, “And you’re the dominant one and I can see it on you and it’s the way you act with me- I mean look at what you’ve made me become. I can’t even go and pee without feeling like I need to ask. You’ve made me eat breakfast for the first time since I started high school and… I call you ‘sir’!”

“I’m your boss, Frank.” Gerard raised his eyebrow.

“That doesn’t matter, though!” Frank threw his hands up, “I can see it now… You’re- Oh, my God.”

“It didn’t start out that way.”

“But you- Ryan was right.” Frank smacked his forehead, “You were, weren’t you? You were grooming me.”

“Stop this, Frank. You’re being absurd.”

“You’re doing it now. Telling me what to do, ordering me around like…”

“Like my assistant?” Gerard queried and Frank let out a small laugh.

“Is that why I’m your assistant? Did you want me for other reasons and you just wanted to keep me close by just in case? Do you think I can actually do this job or am I just your test-dummy? Is this what Lindsey meant by ‘company ink’? Everyone you wanted just ended up working for you just in case, it’s just how you did things?”

“Frank.”

“No. There’s 'assistant' and then there’s me. I-I didn’t see it because I didn’t know. I had no clue but, oh… You’re like… Like, one of those dudes, aren’t you?”

Gerard sat down in his desk chair as Frank stared at him, leaning on the side of the desk, their eyes locked, “Like one of what, boy?”

“Master…” Frank whispered softly.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gerard whispered back, his eyes never wavering from Frank’s as they stared at each other.

“I think _I_ do. I think I finally do. That’s why you kept shrugging me off. You got me in bed to figure me out, didn’t you? You think I can’t do this, right?”

“Frank…”

“Right?” He urged again and Gerard sighed, rubbing his hands over his face in what seemed like frustration, “You thought I was what you wanted, but then once you got me, you realized that I’m not. How the fuck do you know from one night together? You don’t fucking know me from Adam, Gerard!”

“Don’t you talk to me that way,” Gerard warned at the sudden usage of a name he was obviously not aware that Frank knew about, his voice rising and making Frank instantly want to cave and give in. Frank knew he was on the right path, he knew what he was talking about, finally seeing clearly. All he needed was for Gerard to admit it and he stood his ground, feet planted on the orange carpeted rug under his shoes.

“You’re not my Master, you can’t tell me what to do.” Frank narrowed his eyes at Gerard, scrutinizing him, watching Gerard’s jaw clench and his temple throb. He clearly didn’t like that in the slightest.

“I’m still your boss,” Gerard warned.

“You won’t sack me. I sucked your balls.” Frank grinned devilishly when Gerard’s phone suddenly rang beside him on the desk, the white office phone beeping shrill, breaking their tension. Gerard eyed Frank for a moment before he leaned over and picked up the receiver.

“Gerard Way?” He answered casually as though Frank wasn’t even here, “Yes, Alex? I’ll be there now.” Gerard hung up the phone a moment later and Frank raised an eyebrow, watching as Gerard got up.

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m going across the hall.” Gerard stated simply before he looked at Frank, who had turned around as he walked to the door, “You stay.”

Frank watched him walk out and shut the door again and he let out a sighing breath, his mind reeling, his heart thumping in his chest as though a prisoner begging to escape from its cell. He knew he could use this situation to his advantage, he knew that somehow he could persuade Gerard into seeing sense. He just didn’t know how. He knew now who and what Gerard was, knew now that Gerard was more than definitely in charge not only in the office but in every aspect of his life. Sure, Frank didn’t know a lot about the subject but he was more than willing to try if it meant Gerard was the one to do it to him. And as long as no one murdered babies.

Frank thought quick on his feet suddenly, pushing Gerard’s desk chair aside and out of the way, he then dropped to his feet, sitting up on his knees, knowing that Gerard always looked at him wholly differently when he was like this. It had to be something important. And he waited, facing the side of Gerard’s desk that he’d have to walk around to see him, keeping himself out of sight until the very last second. A couple of minutes later the door opened again and Frank’s heart stopped, his body froze as he heard the very same door close softly.

“Frank?” Gerard called out curiously when he obviously noted the office was empty but Frank didn’t reply, not wanting to give himself away, “I’m going to skin that boy.” Frank heard Gerard’s shoes on the floor, coming closer when the wheels of the desk chair moved, spun out of his periphery and Gerard stood there in its place, polished shoes being the only thing Frank could see besides neat hem of his dark teal slacks.

“What are you doing?” Gerard queried, his voice softer than it was before he left, his question not so much filled with confusion or intrigue but more than a resolve, “Frank?”

“Yes, sir?” Frank asked, unmoving.

“What are you doing down there?”

“You told me to stay.” Frank replied simply as he tried to control the shake in his voice when his nerves kicked in at full-force, “I’m doing what I’m told.”

“I thought I couldn’t do that?” The question from Gerard’s lips sounded both rhetorical and sarcastic as though he were merely mimicking Frank’s earlier statement, knowing full well that if push came to shove that he would do it anyway. Only now, the difference was a physical declaration of that statement.

“Maybe I changed my mind,” Frank looked up at Gerard, his stomach in a bundled mess like a ball of snakes, consistent moving inside of him that was only made worse by the look he was being given, “Maybe I want to do as I’m told.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank barely managed above a whisper, so sure that it had been louder and hoping that Gerard was better at lip-reading than he was at speaking right now.

“You do realize what you’re asking? What you’re getting involved in?” Gerard raised an eyebrow, still unmoved as he held the chair’s backrest.

“I’m getting involved in you.” Frank frowned, “And... And the things that you… Do.”

“You have no idea of the things I do,” Gerard stated pointedly and Frank swallowed hard, his throat drying up at the mere thought.

“Then, tell me. Show me.” Frank leaned forward slightly, looking up in earnest, “I want this. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have stayed if, for a minute, I thought I couldn’t do it.”

“Frank…”

“Please…” Frank looked back down, rejection slowly seeping down onto his head like syrup, “I don’t understand why you’re like this. I’m giving myself to you just short of a bow on my head and you’re still saying 'no'.”

“Because if I bring you into this, I put your wellbeing, your mentality, and your life into my hands. It’s not some frivolous high school fling, Frank. Once I own you, I _own_ you. You’re mine and it’s all binding, I care for you and I make sure to do my damn best.”

“You…” Frank frowned, looking up again to see the deadpan seriousness in Gerard’s eyes, “Really?”

“If it were just a relationship, I would have swept you up long ago, before any of this happened. But it’s not. And I don’t do that, either. I have never been the type for normalcy, for the bland and stale of the day-to-day relationship. And I figured that you wouldn’t want it- want me- after coming from the relationship you did.”

“I know it’s huge, I know it… It’s a big thing but, sir- I-” Frank frowned as he tried to find words, getting muddled and lost in Gerard’s stern gaze despite how molten amber his eyes appeared, “I can do this.”

“You’re sure of yourself.” Gerard sat down in his desk chair, turning to face Frank with his elbows resting on his knees, leaning forward slowly, “You do realize what it entails, boy?”

“Not to detail…” Frank admitted then, looking down.

“Look at me, boy. Right now you look at me, understand?” Gerard ordered and Frank returned his gaze up again, “Good. Now… If you do decide to do this, you do realize you won’t be in charge here?”

“I understand.” Frank nodded vigorously, “Don’t think I’d know how, to be honest.”

“No one’s in charge but me.” Gerard warned, “But in saying that, you as the submissive hold all of the power, do you realize that?”

“What?” Frank frowned as he nudged closer, “I don’t understand…”

“I may be holding you down, but you have the power to stop me. I may win battles, but you win wars.” Gerard purred softly and Frank swallowed, his hands shaking in his lap, “I may have the power to make you hurt, to keep you in control, but you tell me when it’s enough, you tell me what you want and I have to listen to you. That’s how this works, Frank.”

“That’s… There’s a word for that, I know that. Wait.” Frank frowned, “For the- the stopping thing.”

“A safeword, boy.” Gerard nodded and Frank looked up, smiling, “You’re not completely in the dark.”

“I’m not.”

“Not unless I put you in it,” Gerard warned, making Frank freeze, his eyes widening.

“Wh-What?”

“Relax.” Gerard waved a hand, “You see, because of the extreme nature of this type of relationship, a lot or most partners sign a contract.”

“You’re kidding.” Frank scoffed and Gerard shook his head, “Why?”

“Because each submissive goes through one with their Dominant and they decide what their limits are, and it’s a physical and documented contract to prove that they’re both of sound-mind and that they both agree to adhere to the rules.”

“Whoa…” Frank whispered, “So, I’d have to sign it?”

“Of course.” Gerard nodded, “I wouldn’t let you in if you didn’t.”

“Is it legally binding?”

“No. You’re not legally obligated to me, but it is a written contract and each partner has to keep a safe copy.”

“Do- Do you have to make one or…” Frank readjusted on his knees before Gerard got up, grabbing him under the arms and hoisting him up. Frank was always surprised by how strong Gerard was, “Whoa!”

“I already have one, boy. I’ve had it for a while.” Gerard admitted and Frank’s jaw dropped before he broke into a wide grin.

“You old perv.” He chuckled, “You’ve wanted this for ages.”

“Would you like to do this now?” Gerard asked and Frank bit his lip, thinking it over before he decided.

“I wanna get something to drink first.”

Frank returned to Gerard’s office moments later with a steaming mug in his hands, the contents of which he wasn’t overly pleased about. He had gone in search of coffee only to find that the pot was empty and there was no coffee in sight; instant or filter. He had rifled through the cabinets before stealing a teabag from one of the containers and steeping it for probably way too long.

Frank took an experimental sip of it, shrugging at the taste when he had identified it as any tea that wasn’t green, and decided to keep it. He slid into the chair across from Gerard, taking another sip as Gerard sorted through papers that Frank could only assume was for him.

“Tea, I see?” Gerard commented, “I didn’t take you as a 'tea' boy.”

“Not usually,” Frank swallowed another sip, “There wasn’t any coffee left and this was all that was left. I snagged it from that green Tupperware.”

“Oh,” Gerard smiled, “That’s my ginger and orange tea. It’s good, is it not?”

“Not too bad, yeah.” Frank smiled as he nursed the sturdy cup to his chest with both hands and looked on, “That’s a lot of pages.”

“Twenty-three neatly typed out pages that cover all, if not most, of the things in the lifestyle. If not, it’s the most important things that I feel are a necessity. I feel that I, myself, have knowledge enough to have seen this contract through despite having cited multiple sources to create a lengthy, but defined and fully-covered, list of the types of play, fetishes, paraphilias, and limits.”

“None of that is English to me,” Frank stated simply, earning a soft chuckle from his boss in return.

“We’ll go through it as paced as you’d like and cover anything that you don’t understand.” Gerard reassured, “Don’t be afraid to ask. I encourage questions.”

“Okay.”

“So,” Gerard turned to the first page when he slid a sleek silver pen towards Frank, who then sat up, setting his mug down on one of Gerard’s glass coasters, “Read this out loud and sign where needed. I’ve taken the liberty of signing all of my parts already.”

“Dominant and submissive contract,” Frank cleared his throat, “I, Frank Anthony Iero Junior, hereafter referred to as the 'submissive'- This is a dope pen- do of my own free will, and being of sound mind and body, do hereby offer myself in consensual submission to Gerard Arthur Way- Your middle name is 'Arthur'?”

“It is, indeed.” Gerard smiled, turning in his chair, watching as Frank fiddled with the pen in his hands.

“-Hereinafter referred to as 'Master', for the period beginning at midnight on- What’s the date?”

“It’s the twenty-second of January.” Gerard offered with a smile, “2015.”

“Right.” Frank filled in the date on the provided line, “And ending at midnight on- Wait, what?”

“Some partnerships are for a specific time. And some choose to renew their contracts after a certain time.” Gerard moved closer as he slid the document slightly sideways to look at it, “What do you think, boy?”

“Oh, uh… A year? Is- Is that good for now?”

“It’s your contract.” Gerard waved a hand to the pages as Frank nodded, filling in the date for a year from then.

“This agreement may be terminated at any time before the above named day by either party only in the event of a breach of contract. On the above-named date, this agreement will be reviewed, negotiated, and rewritten, or terminated.”

“Understand?” Gerard asked and Frank nodded, “Keep going.”

“Part One. ‘Submissive’.” Frank lifted the contract up to read it as he took a careful sip of tea, “The submissive agrees to submit completely to the Master in all ways. There are no boundaries of place, time, or situation in which the submissive may willfully refuse to obey the directive of the Master without risking punishment, except in situations where the submissive's veto- See one-point-one -applies. The submissive also agrees that, once entered into the Contract, their body belongs to their Master; to be used as seen fit, within the guidelines defined herein. That’s kinky shit.”

“That’s the general consensus, Frank.” Gerard smiled, highly amused at Frank’s apparent nonchalance.

“All of the submissive's possessions likewise belong to the Master to do with as they see fit. Including, but not restricted to; all assets, finances, and material goods.” Frank took another sip, “Lucky for you, I own jack squat... The submissive agrees to please the Master to the best of their ability, in that they now exist solely for the pleasure of said Master. The submissive will have their hair washed and brushed in the style Master prefers at all times. The submissive agrees to wear any and all clothing Master picks. The submissive agrees to answer any and all questions asked by Master freely, promptly, and to the best of their knowledge. They further agree to volunteer any information that Master should know regarding their physical or emotional state. Whoa, this is…”

“Too much?” Gerard asked curiously and Frank shook his head, frowning somewhat as he pressed the end of the pen to his lip in thought.

“Thorough,” Frank nodded then, “So, if I’m feeling sad or something I have to tell you just in case I get crabby?”

“It’s advised.”

“What if I’m crabby because I’m constipated? What then? Do I really have to share that or can I try and sneak one of those fancy yogurts?”

“That’s a judgment call.” Gerard pursed his lips, trying his best not to smile too widely at Frank’s childish question, “You decide whether or not I need to know the frequency of your bowels, I think.”

“And I decide not.” Frank nodded with resolution before he continued reading, “Master agrees to never use this information to harm them in any way. The submissive agrees to address Master as 'Sir' or 'Master' unless otherwise directed. They agree to speak respectfully to Master at all times, including times not spent in a scene. Master may address the submissive in any way they so choose. Any way they choose?”

“Any way.” Gerard nodded.

“You’re to call me ‘Griselda Laffy Taffy’ and nothing else.” Frank decided.

“It’s not your decision.” Gerard chuckled and Frank took a sip of tea, eyeing his boss over the rim of the mug with a wide grin.

“You’re no fun.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that statement to be a false accusation. Now keep reading.” Gerard pointed to the contract, “A lot to go through.”

“Part one-point-one. ‘Submissive’s Veto’. The submissive, where appropriate, holds veto power over any command given by the Master, at which time they may rightfully refuse to obey that command. This power may only be invoked under the following circumstances, or other circumstances agreed on by both Master and submissive. These circumstances include where said command conflicts with any existing laws and may lead to fines, arrest, or prosecution of the submissive. Where said command may cause extreme damage to submissive's life. Such as losing their job, causing family stress, etc. Where said command may cause permanent bodily harm- see 4.0- to the submissive and where said command may cause psychological trauma to the submissive- i.e. a rape scene for a submissive that has been raped in the past.”

“Understand?” Gerard asked and Frank nodded, “You sure?”

“I know what a ‘veto’ is, sir.” Frank smiled and Gerard pursed his lips before gesturing to the next page, which the latter turned to, “Part two. ‘The Master’. Ooh… Saucy.”

“I can read that, if you like.” Gerard held his hand out, taking the contract from Frank before he cleared his throat and started reading from the printed document, “The Master accepts the responsibility of the submissive’s body, and worldly possessions, to do with as they see fit, under the provisions determined in this contract. The Master agrees to care for the submissive, to arrange for the safety and well-being of the submissive, as long as they own them. The Master also accepts the commitment to treat the submissive properly, to train, punish, care for the submissive, and use them as they see fit. Master agrees to learn what excites the submissive through exploration and communication and try to incorporate this into the relationship. Master agrees to furnish the submissive with a symbolic token of ownership-”

“What?” Frank frowned then, sitting up slightly as he caught sight of Gerard’s raised eyebrow, “I mean, uh- Pardon?”

“Something catch your attention, boy?”

“A token of ownership?” Frank asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, usually it’s like a piece of jewelry to signify that I own you. Many and most pick a different type of collar depending on the relationship. There are quite a few different types of collars. But collars aren’t a lot of people’s accepted social attire so they wear a collar at home and when they’re out they wear something a bit less conspicuous like a bracelet or a soft collar made of velvet. Or even just an ownership tag.”

“And I get something?”

"Of course.” Gerard looked at Frank with a hard pause, “I own you.”

“O-Oh…” Frank whispered, his stomach practically vaulting over his left lung at the way Gerard had spoken to him.

“The submissive,” Gerard continued, hiding his smirk to a degree almost as though he knew what had happened inside of Frank at that moment, “Agrees to wear this symbol at all times, except when Master states to do so, would be inappropriate or would non-contractually involve others. Master accepts full responsibility of the submissive. This includes but is not limited to their: survival, health, physical well-being, and mental well-being.”

“Right.” Frank nodded, “Got it, sir.”

“Part three,” Gerard punctuated, “‘Scenes’. The submissive accepts full responsibility for informing Master of any real or perceived dangers or safety concerns, but also states that the Master's decision will be final regarding these issues, with the proper explanation. Master agrees that the submissive will not be punished for respectfully stating these concerns. Master further agrees to listen to their concerns with a clear and open mind. Master shall endeavor not to inflict physical harm upon the submissive which might require the attention of someone outside the relationship. The submissive agrees to accept the responsibility of using a 'safe word' when necessary. Now, Frank, there’s a part here to fill in that you need to decide on, boy.”

“Which is?”

“You need a ‘safeword’ and a ‘safe signal’ for when you’re unable to speak.” Gerard pointed to the two blank lines in the paragraph of writing and Frank’s mind went completely blank. Gerard continued to explain, “Something you wouldn’t say during sex, something completely random that you and I will understand as you wanting me to completely stop.”

“Oh shit, uh…” Frank scratched at his head, “I don’t fucking know, sir.”

“How about…” Gerard’s brows knitted together as he contemplated, “Pineapples.”

“P-” Frank looked up from the pages at Gerard’s amused eyes and all-knowing smirk, “You’re kidding me?”

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you, boy.”

“Ah, the fucking socks.” Frank smacked his forehead lightly, “Knew they’d come back to bite me in the ass. Fuck. Fine. ‘Pineapples’, it is.”

“And a signal.”

“How about I ‘middle finger’ you?” Frank asked jokingly as he smiled, taking a small sip of the still-scalding tea.

“Despite whatever it is I’ll be doing, perhaps you pick something a little less vulgar?” Gerard offered.

“Fine. The hidden middle finger.” Frank held up his three fingers, “See it’s up but you got one on each side so it’s not offensive and you have plausible deniability.”

“Three fingers it is.” Gerard surrendered, “Coincidentally, three fingers seems to be a fan favorite where you’re concerned.”

“How do you manage to make fingering my ass sound less vulgar than it is?” Frank looked up from filling in the contract.

“I’m Batman, Frank. Now write.” Gerard nodded, “I want to still be thirty-six when we finish this.”

“Keep your thong on.” Frank scowled as he filled in the last line before sliding it over to Gerard, who inspected the page.

“Did you have to write ‘hidden middle finger’?” Gerard asked rhetorically, sighing softly as he scratched his eyebrow, decidedly going on with narrating the contract, “Submissive acknowledges their safe signals as such, and Master accepts the responsibility of assessing situations where the submissive calls 'safe word' and will, to the best of their ability, stop the activity entirely. Master agrees not to punish them for the use of a safe word. Thereafter the situation will be discussed calmly between Master and the submissive, find the problem, and mediate a solution.”

“Gotcha.” Frank nodded, “Keep going, sir.”

“Master agrees to furnish all toys such as vibrators, etc. and punishment implements such as crops and whips. The submissive agrees to clean and maintain all toys, have them available for Master's use at all times, and inform Master of any needed repairs or replacements. The submissive will discuss and write out their soft and hard limits. They both agree to never violate these limits without prior negotiation or consent of the other. At the end of the play, Master will remember the aftercare for both of them; it is an important part of a scene and will conclude play.”

“Aftercare?”

“Physical, mental, emotional, and psychological caring after a scene has taken place to ensure that both partners are okay and not damaged in any way.” Gerard nodded, “Some things can be a bit harsh or hard on either one and maintenance is key.”

“Right, okay.” Frank nodded, spinning the pen in his fingers still, “What’s next?”

“Section four,” Gerard smirked slightly, “‘Punishment’.”

“O-Oh…” Frank leaned in slightly, “Can- Can I see?”

“You’re more than welcome, boy.” Gerard handed the contract back and Frank stared at the bold section-heading with apprehension. He knew exactly what it meant, “Loud and clear, Frank.”

“The submissive agrees and understands that any infractions of this agreement, or any action they commit which displeases Master, will result in punishment. The submissive will gracefully accept punishment and try to learn from it. They agree to assemble the punishment materials as ordered by Master and assume any position needed to accept the punishment.” Frank looked at Gerard for a second, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink and growing warm, “They understand that failure to comply with Master's orders will result in a more severe punishment. Master will inform submissive that they are being punished when punishment occurs. H-How severe are we talking here?”

“As severe as I think is necessary.” Gerard sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

“Master will explain the reason for punishment either before, during, or following punishment. Master agrees to discipline only out of a desire to better the submissive, and further agrees to never punish out of, or during, feelings of anger.” Frank sighed, “So, you can flog me however you please but not when you’re constipated because there’s no yogurt.”

“Right.”

“That’s reassuring.” Frank nodded, “Gerard?”

“Yes, boy?”

“Please always have yogurt.” Frank bit his lip nervously when Gerard laughed at Frank’s plea, chuckling at the nervous humor.

“I’ll put it on the list.” Gerard looked at the contract, “What’s next?”

“Section four-point-one. 'Rules of punishment',” Frank looked at Gerard before he started reading, “Punishment of the submissive is subject to certain rules designed to protect the submissive from intentional abuse or permanent bodily harm- See four-point-two. Punishment must not incur permanent bodily harm, or the following forms of abuse,” He turned the page, the first word making him jump slightly, “Blood may not be drawn at any time. Punishment must stop immediately if blood is drawn, burning the body, drastic loss of circulation, causing internal bleeding, loss of consciousness. Withholding of any necessary materials, such as food, water, or sunlight for extended periods of time.

"So, if any of those were to happen, punishment doesn’t happen, alright?”

“I’d fucking hope not.” Frank whispered, “Four-point-two, ‘permanent bodily harm’- Wait. This has to be its own section?”

“Of course, dear boy.” Gerard frowned, “If anything it should have it’s own emblazoned signage.”

“Wow.” Frank looked down at the heading for a moment, “Since the body of the submissive now belongs to the Master, it is the Master's responsibility to protect that body from permanent bodily harm. Should the submissive ever come to permanent bodily harm during the course of punishment or in any other related activity, whether by intention or accident, it will be grounds for immediate termination of this contract, should they so desire. Permanent bodily harm shall be determined as the following…”

“Read these carefully.”

“Death- Whoa, right off the bat with this. Fucking 'death'?” Frank looked up incredulously, “Death.”

“I did say that before. If you’re in improper hands or someone who isn’t of full knowledge. Mistakes are made and costs are lengthy.” Gerard stated grimly, his face grave as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Any damage that involves loss of mobility or function, including broken bones, any permanent marks on the skin, including scars, burns, or tattoos, unless accepted by the submissive. Any loss of hair, unless accepted by the submissive, any piercing of the flesh which leaves a permanent hole, unless accepted by the submissive, any diseases that could result in any of the above results, including sexually transmitted diseases.”

“Speaking of,” Gerard muttered, “When were you last tested, Frank?”

“Oh!” Frank looked up at the ceiling as he thought back to the last time he had gone, “A…bout a week after I broke up with Ryan, I think. I mean, he was the only person I’d been with but I’m always cautious.”

“Hang on, the only one?” Gerard frowned and Frank looked at him, looking at his surprise.

“Well, yeah,” Frank straightened up, “Besides you, I mean. We started dating in high school. Six years, I’m only twenty-two.”

“So, he was your first?” Gerard asked as he nodded more to himself than anyone else before shaking his head slightly and returning back to the topic, “And you’re clean, I take it?”

“I keep my results in my wallet,” Frank gestured to where his office was, “I can show you.”

“I’ll look later but I’m taking your word for it.” Gerard slid his own test results towards Frank, who peered over it, “Fit as a fiddle.”

“AB positive.” Frank pursed his lips, “Go, you.”

“Point is.” Gerard took the sheet back and put it in his drawer, “I get monthly check-ups to be on the safe side and I suggest you take it into advisement to do the same.”

“Alright.” Frank nodded, “I suppose I can do that.”

“Carry on, I believe there was more in that section.” Gerard pointed with a dismissive finger-swipe in the general direction of the contract on the desk.

“Nope.” Frank turned the page, “Section five, though. 'Others'. The submissive may not seek any other Master or lover or relate to others in any sexual or submissive way without the Master's permission; to do so will be considered a breach of contract, and will result in extreme punishment. The Master may accept other submissives or lovers- I beg your sweet fucking pardon?”

“Keep reading, Frank.”

“-but must consider the submissive's emotional response to such actions and act accordingly. Oh…” Frank frowned to himself at his stupidity, blushing bright red at how defensive he got at the thought of Gerard with anyone else, but urged himself to move on, feeling his insides grow tight and his skin hot and flustered, “Under no circumstance should the Master allow such actions to unbalance the submissive emotionally, or allow such actions to result in ignoring the submissive. The Master may give the submissive to other Masters, provided that the submissive agrees and the rules of this contract are upheld. In such a situation, the Master will inform the new Master of the provisions stated herein, and any breach by the new Master will be considered a breach by the Master as well, subject to all rules stated in this contract. Uh- the fuck he won’t.”

“Don’t like sharing, I see?” Gerard commented and Frank scowled up at him ruefully, “Okay, calm down. No sharing. That’s alright, at least you’re bargaining and we’re talking.”

“No sharing.” Frank scowled at the contract, “Also, I’ve noticed something.”

“Yes?”

“Your contract is wonky,” Frank sniffed, “Master and Dominant get capitalized but submissive doesn’t. That’s not right, though. Submissive is also a title. It’s a noun.”

“Be that as it may, in the bondage world, there is a thing called Capitalization and Honorifics.” Gerard explained, “Some in the BDSM lifestyle insist that words referring to the dominant person in a relationship should always be capitalized, whereas those referring to the submissive partner should be written in lowercase. In the world of BDSM, it is your Master or Mistress who determines all your rules of capitalization, not the grammar books. For one, if I tell you to capitalize my title, you do so, end of the story. But in general, my dear boy, the Dominant is with a capital letter because they are of more importance and of higher stature. The submissive or slave is a nothing and has to earn their right to have any sort of honor or capital letter in their name or title. And it’s all to do with respect, the subservient is never on the same level as their Dominant unless put there, both on paper and physically.”

“You guys really do the details…” Frank muttered, “Well, alright then, I was wrong.”

“I’m glad you asked, Frank.” Gerard slid the contract back to him and turned to the next page, "Section six, ‘Secrecy’.”

“What?”

“All physical evidence of the agreement will be kept in total secrecy, except where both Master and submissive agree. Any violation of this clause shall be cause to terminate this contract, should the injured party wish it. The materials and physical evidence shall be kept under lock-and-key in a place acceptable to both parties,” Gerard looked up, “That’s a general rule for everyone in the lifestyle but I stick to it a little more closely given my political station, you understand?”

“Definitely, sir.” Frank nodded eagerly, “I totally get it.”

“Section seven, ‘Alteration and Termination of Contract’,” Gerard read out, his voice flowing as smooth as honey for Frank like it always did, the sound was calming, melodious with just a smidge of drop-dead fucking sex God. Frank had to physically reel himself in to pay attention to Gerard’s words, “This contract may not be altered, except when both Master and submissive agree. If the contract is altered, the new contract shall be printed and signed, and then the old contract must be destroyed. This contract may be terminated at any time by the Master or the submissive. Upon termination, all physical evidence of the agreement, including this contract, will be destroyed, and all materials and belongings shall belong to the Master, to be shared or kept as they see fit. The submissive, owning nothing and having agreed to give up all worldly possessions and body to the Master, shall once again own their body, but nothing else, unless the Master decides to give back their possessions.”

“Hey, at least I’ll get my jack squat back,” Frank commented, trying to avoid any and all thoughts as to why the contract would be terminated.

“Now,” Gerard slid it back to Frank, “Read and sign. Name, date, and signature on the correct lines please.”

“Right.” Frank clicked his pen, “I have read and fully understand this contract in its entirety. I agree to give everything I own to my Master, and further accept their claim of ownership over my physical body. I understand that I will be commanded and trained and punished as a submissive, and I promise to be true and to fulfill the pleasures and desires of my master to the best of my abilities. I further understand that I can withdraw from this contract at any time. Signed, Frank Anthony Iero Junior.”


	32. That Sounds a Bone Disease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also, I feel the need to mention that if anyone ever mentions 50 Shades of Grey unless they're mocking the absolute crap out of it and how incorrect (and uneducatedly dangerous) it is, then I will hang you by your ears. That is all. 

“Good boy.” Gerard smiled, “You’ll note that I pre-signed my pieces.”

“So efficient.” Frank commented, “Outstanding work, sir.”

“Your patronizing is what warms my heart, Frank.” Gerard rolled his eyes as he took the contract back, “Now for the fun part. Section eight is the ‘Addendum’, the lists to go through. We will discuss in this order the types of play, the fetishes, the paraphilia, and then your limits, understand? Now, I need to reiterate that just because you have said 'yes' to something doesn't mean we will do it, this is just to understand your limits.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” Frank muttered, the nervousness creeping back in at the thought of what was waiting in the thick pages that were left, they had only gone through- What?- Five pages?

“I name and you tell me 'yes' or 'no' or 'maybe',” Gerard opened with that simple order before he looked at the page again, “But also understand that just because you say a 'yes' to something doesn’t automatically mean we will do it. It’s just so I know where your limits are. If you say 'yes' to a golden shower, it doesn’t mean I will, it simply means I know you’re okay with it. Although that does happen to be a personal favorite.”

“Oh, my God, really?” Frank’s eyes widened in fervid surprise as Gerard merely smiled and looked down at the list.

“Age play?”

“Uh…”

“A form of role-playing in which a submissive acts as if they were a different age, sexual or non-sexually. And their Dominant is usually their carer.”

“Oh!” Frank smacked his forehead, “Shit, I’ve heard of that. Like ‘Daddy’ stuff, right?”

“Right.”

“Hard pass, thank you.” Frank shook his head, “Not my thing.”

Gerard highlighted the line in red, and that’s when Frank noted a red, yellow, and green marker next to his boss, no doubtedly for each answer. Gerard’s hand was poised as he asked “Animal roleplay?”

“Nope.”

“Bondage?”

“Yes.” Frank grinned at the thought, “Definitely.”

“Breast torture?”

“I don’t have…”

“Same general area.” Gerard rationalized for his assistant, “Nipples included, I might add.”

“I don’t like the word ‘torture’ but sure.”

“Cock and ball torture?” Gerard chuckled then, realizing why Frank had jumped in his seat, his eyes widened in genuine fear as terrifying thoughts flashed through his head faster than a speeding locomotive.

“Even less but a-alright.”

“Control?”

“Uh-huh.” Frank swallowed.

“Electrostimulation?”

“Why not?”

“Edgeplay?” Gerard looked up when Frank remained silent, the latter trying his hardest to wrack his brain, to figure out what Gerard had mentioned. It was when he came up empty that he shook his head, waiting for his boss to reiterate.

“What?”

“Sexual play that is very extreme in nature. Said to be on the edge of safety and sometimes even sanity. Can be very dangerous if not practiced correctly. It’s building a submissive up to their climax and then dropping them again. Over and over. It can be minutes or built up over weeks, if I so choose.” Gerard bit his lip and looked up at Frank, who was now dead frozen in his seat with what felt like a radiating, nauseating fear that maybe this wasn’t for him, but no, he knew it was just nerves. He swallowed everything back down, “Frank?”

“Yes. I- Edgeplay is good.”

“Flogging?”

“Yes. I-I like the idea of that.” Frank glanced at the old umbrella stand that stood at the very end of Gerard’s bookshelf with the two old but sturdy-looking canes lazing about in it, and a slow chill ran down his legs.

“Golden showers?”

“What, like pee?” Frank frowned, tearing his gaze away and Gerard looked up at him from under his lashes with a high amusement, making Frank want to giggle like a child, “Yeah sure, why not?”

“Interesting,” Gerard looked back down, “Japanese bondage?”

“Yeah.”

“Medical play?”

“Get the fuck out with that, thanks.” Frank winced at the thought, “I hated going to the doctor if I was sick, so if you think I’m gonna play 'nurses', you must be mad.”

Gerard merely chuckled at that, loosening his tie slightly before popping the top button with two very skilled fingers, “Paraphilic infantilism?”

“That sounds a bone disease.” Frank chuckled.

“Daddy kink.”

“Same thing. Nope.”

“Predicament bondage.” Gerard disclosed as he replaced the cap on the red marker, “Is a form of bondage, typically in which a person is restrained with an option of placing themself in one of a pair of uncomfortable positions, which are sufficiently uncomfortable that the person is forced to shift after a time to the other position. Usually to cause muscle ache, for example.”

“Then, yes. Who needs yoga?” Frank joked weakly as his leg began to shake yet again.

“Sexual roleplay?”

“Please and thanks.” Frank then grinned.

“Spanking?”

“I-...” Frank felt himself blush at the mere mention of the word and he looked down, whispering a barely audible ‘yeah’ back to Gerard, who crossed it in green with a wide smile on his face that Frank wanted to slap off.

“Suspension?”

“Yes.”

“Torture in general.”

“Yes.”

“Tickle torture.”

“Oh, God.” Frank’s whole body tensed up then, “I- Maybe.”

“Wax play?”

“I love playing with wax when I’m bored.” Frank grinned, “Used to do it as a kid, too.”

“There’s nothing surprising in that statement, not going to lie to you, Frank.” Gerard chuckled, “Domestic servitude?”

“Being your maid and shit?”

“Yes, boy.”

“Dope. Sounds fun.” Frank smiled.

“Slavery.”

“In bondage, sure. In History? Fuck that.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Gerard nodded, “Which is why I refuse using those terms even in my lifestyle. The contract uses them for a general statement but that’s about it. I find it highly capricious.”

“Oh?”

“We’ll get into it all later, boy. Now, ‘chastity’?” Gerard looked up and Frank had raised a curious eyebrow, “Chastity belts or cages of that nature in BDSM may be used as part of a practice of orgasm control, to prevent the wearer from engaging principally in sexual intercourse without the permission of the Dominant, who acts as ‘keyholder’. A chastity belt will also prevent other sexual activities such as masturbation and oral sex for the submissive being chastized.”

“Alright…”

“Erotic humiliation?”

“Sure, I guess.” Frank shrugged, nipping at a piece of loose skin on his bottom lip as he watched Gerard’s hands skim over the page, a memory of Gerard’s hands doing the same thing over Frank’s skin when they were first together flashed across his brain and he sucked in a breath and slid back into his seat.

“Sexual slavery?”

“Is there a difference?” Frank’s eyebrows rose then and he leaned forward.

“A vast one, yes.”

“Then slot it in with the other one, I’m down.”

“Verbal humiliation?”

“Nothing new. Yes.”

“Well, now we’re done with the types of play. Most, if not all, of the things mentioned below will fall under those categories.” Gerard turned the page, “Fetishes. Do you know what a fetish is?”

“Uh… Probably not in the fancy way you’d explain it, no.”

“A form of sexual desire in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, item of clothing, part of the body et cetera, et cetera.” Gerard waved a hand, “It’s the things in everyday life that get people riled up the way they do. The fascination.”

“Let’s hear ‘em.” Frank sat back in his chair.

“Shoe worship?”

“Yes. Shoes are good. I mean who doesn’t worship the almighty Chuck Taylor?” Frank could feel his nervous babbling wanting to spew forth like Old Faithful, wanting to gurgle up like acidic bile in his throat but he held as much of it back as possible.

“Uniforms?”

“Yes.”

“Smoking?”

“No Bueno.” Frank shook his head, “I don’t think that’ll get me going, thanks.”

“Latex?”

“Like gimp masks and binders and shit? Sure, I’m in for that.”

“Food?”

“Maybe. Depends though because no one is sticking anything spicy in my asshole.” Frank crossed his arms and Gerard looked up, highly amused.

“Is that what you think, boy?”

Frank faltered, “Wh-”

“You wait until I tell you what ‘figging’ is.” Gerard replied cryptically and Frank’s expression soured as he tried to gauge what it could be, “Urine?”

“Why not?”

“Obesity?”

“No.” Frank shook his head, “I mean, I have nothing against appearances but I can’t say I’ve ever jerked off to Mama June or Fat Albert.”

“How lovely of you to enlighten me, Frank,” Gerard eyed his assistant for a moment, “I would like to know what it is you think of when you touch yourself, however. But… Another time.”

“I-”

“Crossdressing.” Gerard quickly changed the topic, making Frank relax, a sigh of relief when he realized he didn’t have to share with his boss that _he_ was one of the main stars of his vulgar fantasies.

“Yes.”

“Whipping.”

“Y-Yes.” Frank swallowed hard.

“Corporal punishment?”

“Yeah.”

“Human toilet?”

“Number ones, yes. Number twos, I’m gonna have to say 'no'.” Frank shuddered, looking at Gerard as he chuckled silently.

“An excellent choice. How about human furniture?”

“What?”

“If I wanted you to be my footstool while I watch television or be my coat hook? Personally, I think you’d make a rather nice footstool or even a very pretty coffee table.”

“Did- Did you just call me 'pretty'?” Frank scrunched up his nose as Gerard locked eyes with him, his finger tapping his bottom lip as his eyes roamed unabashedly over Frank, making the latter squirm.

“I did. And I stand by it. You are very pretty, boy.”

“Th-Thanks?” Frank felt his ears warm-up and he smiled slightly, “That’s a good thing?”

“If you’re secure enough in your masculinity, even as a homosexual, then 'pretty' is never a bad thing. Only those men who are so out of touch with their sexuality and so afraid to be labeled anything ‘gay’ would have a problem with using feminine terms. You, Frank, are very pretty.”

“Just-Just go on with the list.” Frank waved a hand at the pages, his blush darkening drastically, “Go on. Uh- Furniture, right? Okay, yeah.”

“Feminization?”

“Dope.” Frank chuckled, folding his arms at the thought of himself dressing in a skirt or thigh highs.

“Cuckold?”

“What?”

“Cuckold, when used in a fetish context, describes the fetish of men who find masochistic pleasure in watching their wives have sex with other men. The man is complicit in the infidelity and often helps arrange the meetings.” Gerard explained, “In our instance, it would be you who would watch me, per se.”

“What, have sex with someone else?” Frank scoffed again, “As if. You have a better chance of squirting Diet Yoohoo from your nostril than you have of me giving that the ‘okay’.”

“Diet… Yoohoo...” Gerard muttered as he scribbled it onto the contract beside the line that he had highlighted red, “Got it. Next is ‘bondage’, I take it that’s a 'yes'.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Public humiliation?”

“Well, I thought no public stuff?” Frank frowned, “Your image.”

“Well, alright. Ignore that for a moment, let’s say that when I state ‘public’ I mean others in the lifestyle.”

“You know other people in the lifestyle?”

“You’ll see, boy.” Gerard’s insightful gaze landed on Frank, the latter catching the tiniest glimmer of excitement in his eyes, a gaze that made his insides knot up like a balloon animal.

“Then 'yes'.”

“Sissy-maiding?” Gerard seemed highly amused then, grinning somewhat and in a way that Frank found wholly unnerving.

“And that is…?” Frank asked despite feeling like he was dreading the answer.

“Dressing you in a woman’s maids costume and making you do chores and things of that nature.” Gerard chuckled and Frank bit his lip.

“Is it a french maid’s outfit?”

“I’m sure we can arrange one to fit you.”

“Then deal.” Frank nodded, “Lemme see some.” Gerard silently handed the contract over along with the three markers that Frank took gratefully, going to the next option on the list, “Roleplay, yes.” Frank striped the option in green before looking up, “Animal play, again?”

“Where you would dress or behave as a specific animal and I would be your carer.” Gerard stated simply and Frank grimaced lightly, streaking the option in red.

“B-Body wetting?”

“Urination, either you on yourself, or me on you.”

“Ah.” Frank felt his ears go red as he striped it in green, “Internal holding and omorashi?”

“Holding in your urge to urinate.” Gerard explained, continuing when he noticed the confusion on Frank’s face, “Most people don’t know that holding in your urine while having sex increases your orgasm intensity because of the pressure and weight of your bladder.”

“I thought that was only for girls?” Frank frowned, the spike of nerves shooting through him as he could still feel Gerard’s eyes on him, scrutinizing his movements with an intensity that made him swirl inside, “And- And I’m not gonna lie, it’s happened before. A year ago, if Ryan would wake me up in the morning to have sex and I’d have to pee, it would be really hard for me to get it up. But then also in saying that I also used to get pee boners, still do.”

“Aren’t we just a complex being, Frank?” Gerard sighed dramatically and Frank couldn’t help chuckling at that as he ran the green marker over the option

“Frottage?” Frank looked up, “It sounds like a block of old, sweaty cheese.”

“That’s Fromage,” Gerard corrected, “French, by the way. And no. Frottage is... Frottage refers to the act of rubbing body parts together for the purpose of sexual stimulation. The act of frottage usually involves two partners rubbing their genitals together, but it does not always have to involve genital contact of both partners. Or I could get you off by having you grind on the corner of this desk.” Frank stared at the corner of the desk as the green marker shook violently in his hand, his mouth running dry when he looked away and striped green on the last option of the list.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Gerard asked, his voice reaching that sneer of almost mockery if it weren’t for the sexual undertones in it, “How interesting. I’m learning a lot about you, Frank.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Frank frowned, “What’s next?”

“Next page is ‘paraphilias’.” Gerard clarified, “A condition characterized by abnormal sexual desires, typically involving extreme or dangerous activities. The be-all and end-all of the lifestyle.”

“Okay, wait, before we go on, I have a question.” Frank bit the end of the green marker, going back one or two pages to the initial contract, “So, basically what this is, is… I have to cook for you, clean for you, drive you around, dress how you want, act how you want, say what you want at every time of the day; and in exchange, all I get in return is you dicking me down as hard and frequently as possible?”

“Well…”

“I’m so down.” Frank muttered, growing flustered slightly as he read over the one page about his duties before he paged forward to where he had initially been, “So damn down for this.”

“Oh, really?” Gerard raised an eyebrow.

“I practically do all of that anyway, minus you nailing my dick to some plywood,” Frank reached for his tea after so long, realizing he’d forgotten about it, “So, you might as well include it to the bat-shit crazy list of things you have here.”

“You mean a butterfly board?”

Frank spit back into his cup in surprise, staring at Gerard as a humorless laugh left him, tea running down his chin, “Wait. That’s a thing?”

“Well, it’s more scrotum than actual dick but there’s still nailing and plywood.” Gerard pointed out and Frank stared at him with a blank face, the inside of his skull had all melted like ice cream in a microwave, “What?”

“I just…” Frank shook his head, wiping his chin, “On with the list. Hey, this tea’s not bad when it's cold either.”

“I know.” Gerard smiled, “It’s versatile like that.”

“Like you.” Frank chuckled as he read over the list and frowned, “So, what do I do here? Just pick the kinks I’m into and the ones I’m not?”

“Firstly, Frank,” Gerard interrupted, “Do you know what hard and soft limits are?”

“Uh… How crispy you want your toast with breakfast?” Frank offered up with a one-shouldered shrug, earning an eyebrow raise in return that made him cave, “Worth a shot.”

“Hard and soft limits can be confusing to a newcomer into the lifestyle. A hard and soft limit isn’t your 'yes' and 'no'. Many people get that confused and that’s where the misunderstandings lay.” Gerard cleared his throat, “Your red strikes are 'no'. Those are the ones that you will not do under any circumstances, right?”

“Yeah?” Frank looked back at the list of fetishes, nodding.

“Now, that’s a hard limit for you.” Gerard remarked, “Like, for example, a hard limit for me personally would be anthropophagy; eating human flesh.”

“I love how that’s a hard limit for you. No, you’ll piss in my ear but eating slightly chewy pork is a problem.” Frank snickered, “But okay, I get you. Hard limits are the no-no’s. What’s a soft limit, then?”

“Soft limits are your 'maybe'.” Gerard pointed to one that Frank had lighted in yellow, “A soft limit is something you're wary of but may try in the future. And then your greens are your straight 'yes' answers, no problems with them at all, kind of thing. Understand?”

“Hard limit is 'no', soft limit is a 'maybe' and a 'yes' is a yes,” Frank repeated.

“Ah, my good boy.” Gerard praised, making Frank smile coyly and bite the end of the marker in his hand, looking down, “Why don’t you start on your paraphilia limits while I make you some more tea?”

“Really?” Frank looked up with a frown, “I thought I did stuff for you.”

“I may become your Dominant but I’m still a courteous gentleman, Frank. Would you like more tea?”

“Please.” Frank smiled as Gerard got up, grabbing the mug as he walked out of the office, leaving Frank alone with the stack of pages, starting with the first one, “Abasiophilia: people with impaired mobility. Nope. Acucullophilia: sexual attraction to men who are circumcised. Uh… Maybe?” Frank thought about it for a moment, frowning to himself at the mention of circumcision and whether or not it particularly mattered to him. He knew that Ryan had been circumcised as a baby because of his family upholding tradition and it made no difference to Frank personally.

“Hey uh,” Frank turned to look at Gerard as he returned with two mugs in his hands, slowly kicking the door closed with his foot, “I have a question, and I’m just checking to make sure, here.”

“Go on.” Gerard set the mugs down as he sat himself in his chair and wheeled himself closer.

“You’re-You’re circumcised, right?” Frank wracked his brain as he tried to remember.

“No, I'm not. Didn’t you get a close enough look earlier?” Gerard chuckled and Frank waved him off.

“I just wanted to make sure, sir.” Frank smiled as he struck the line on the page in yellow, “I mean I’m not and I was pretty sure you weren't either. Acomoclitic: preference for hairless genitals? Uh…”

“If it’s any consolation in that regard, Frank, I prefer my own genitals hair-free, if you were ‘umming’ on my behalf.” Gerard took a sip of his own tea, “I do, however, have a preference when it comes to my submissive’s pubic hair.”

“And that is?” Frank asked, suddenly worried about the current state of his balls.

“I’m not one for hairless, it makes me think too much of children who haven’t hit puberty, and when my submissive is younger than me, as you are, that might be a problem.” Gerard straightened up in his chair, swallowing another sip, “That being said, I don’t want your personal hygiene and maintenance lacking.”

“So, like…” Frank thought for a moment, “So, pubes but… Neatly trimmed, I guess?”

“Right on the money, boy.” Gerard smiled as Frank moved on to the next.

“Acro-Acro... tomophilia: people with amputations? No. Agalmatophilia: statues, mannequins, and immobility? M-Maybe. Algola-lagnia,” Frank sucked in a breath, “Pain, particularly involving an erogenous zone; differs from masochism as there is a biologically different interpretation of the sensation rather than a subjective interpretation. Maybe. Soft limit.”  
  


“Good. Good boy.” Gerard smiled, steeping his tea slowly in his hands and Frank bit his lip at the praise, trying not to let it melt him internally.

“Algophilia: sexual arousal from experiencing pain. Yeah. Allopellia: reaching orgasm from watching other people in sexual activities….”

“Problem?”

“I don’t know about this one.” Frank admitted, “I mean, would I get off to see you fucking someone? No, I wouldn’t but say, I get off watching porn.”

“Then it’s a soft limit, boy. A 'maybe'.” Gerard smiled and Frank struck the line in yellow before continuing.

“Altocal...ciphilia: high heel fetish. Maybe,” Frank nodded, “Andromimetophilia: trans men? That’s a fetish?”

“A big one, actually.” Gerard smiled.

“But how?” Frank frowned.

“There’s a huge fetish in the world for both genuinely transgender men and those who merely parade as such for sexual reasons.” Gerard explained, “A lot of men who didn’t start out in life that way are vastly attractive and there’s a large market in the fetish world for men with… Female genitals. I don't personally agree with this as a fetish because I see men as men, and women as women regardless of their genitals. It is unfortunate that it is seen as a fetish and I can't leave it out of the contract simply because I don't agree with it. As it were, I don't agree with it, either way."

“Wow. Well, I mean that’s a 'maybe'. I don’t wanna count that out cause, like… What if he’s cute y’know? Doesn’t mean I’m gonna fuck him or anything but hot is hot and hot I like.” Frank drew the line through with yellow, “Soft limit on the trans boys; dudes are dudes.”

Frank looked up suddenly when Gerard got up, walking over to him before he put his hands on either side of Frank’s chair and wheeled him around the desk, making the latter yelp in fright and laugh loudly, holding on to the chair as he was pushed to the other side of the desk where Gerard’s chair was, “Whoa.” Frank chuckled as he pulled the contract and the markers towards him, “And that?”

“I want you at my side at all times.” Gerard smiled, “And I also want to see your choices as you go, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, uh…” Frank cleared his throat, blushing, “Sure.”

“And just for interest sake, boy,” Gerard looked at his assistant as he sat himself back down in his desk chair, “As my submissive, you will always be on my right side as you are now. And when walking or standing you will always be behind and one step to the right of me, are we clear?”

“Yes.” Frank swallowed at the tone in Gerard’s voice, “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy. Keep going.” Gerard took a sip of his tea as Frank sucked in a breath and grabbed a marker.

“Anthropo...phagolagnia: raping and then cannibalizing another person.” Frank bit his lip, “Yes.”

“Pardonne moi?” Gerard sputtered and Frank let out a giggle, “Don’t joke like that, boy. You’ll give me a stroke.”

“Whoops.” Frank grinned widely, striking red through the line, “Anthropophagy: ingesting human flesh? Definitely not. Ap-Apo…”

“Apotemnophilia,” Gerard urged, “being an amputee.”

“I like my limbs.” Frank muttered as he lined the word in red, “Asphyxiophilia: being asphyxiated or strangled… I-” Frank scowled, lighting it in green as his cheeks lit up again and he reached for his tea, taking a small sip, knowing Gerard was watching him, “Shush.”

“I said not a word, boy.”

“Drink your tea, I’m paraphilizing.” Frank stated, “Autagonistophilia: being on stage or on camera? I’m down. Autassassinophilia: being in life-threatening situations? Yeah, sure. I guess, I can do that.”

“You guess?” Gerard asked and Frank held up a finger.  
  


“A-bub-bub. Tea.” Frank pointed at Gerard’s mug nearby, making the older man chuckle as he leaned over and took a sip, miming his lips being shut, “Autoerotic asphyxiation- Oh, I know this, yeah. That’s what happened to the guy from INXS or something. Self-induced asphyxiation, sometimes to the point of near unconsciousness. Um… Maybe.”

“Hmm.”

“You shush.” Frank giggled, “Autogynephilia one: a biological male imagining himself as a female? No. Autogynephilia two: sexual arousal from cross-dressing? Yes. Auto-haemofetishism: bleeding oneself but does not involve ingestion of blood. Type of autovampirism. Yeah, I’m gonna say… No. Autonepi-piophilia: the image of one's self in the form of an infant? The fuck, no.”

“You’re doing well, by the way.” Gerard muttered softly and Frank smiled slightly, taking a sip of tea, “Still have fifteen pages to go.”

“Sweet baby Jesus.” Frank whispered, “Autopedophilia: the image of one's self in the form of a child. Definitely not. Autoplushophilia: the image of one's self in the form of a plush or anthropomorphized animal. Christ, no. Autovampirism and vampirism: the image of one's self in the form of a vampire. Involves ingesting or seeing one's own blood. See now this is a 'maybe' because I don’t want to ingest my own blood but, dear God, if you did something that felt good and I actually bleed... I think I’d come in my pants."

“Who says you’re wearing pants?” Gerard mused jokingly and Frank couldn’t help the tiny whimper that fell from him as his hand curled tight around the yellow marker that he used to strike through.

“Autozoophilia,” Frank breathed as he took in a sip of his tea, “The image of one's self in the form of an animal or anthropomorphized animal. This animal thing is working on my nerves, not gonna lie. Belonephilia: sexual arousal from the use of needles. Okay, yeah.”

“Really?” Gerard raised an eyebrow, “Fascinating.”

“I’m a wonder, remember?” Frank repeated Gerard’s innocuous line from when they had slept together, smiling smugly. Gerard pursed his lips, taking Frank by the jaw and physically turning head to face the contract, the firm feeling of Gerard’s fingers on him like that had Frank’s whole body keening under his clothes, “Biastophilia or raptophilia: raping a person, possibly consensual rape fantasy. Is it weird that I’m totally into that? Like, situationally, I'd be into it if it was consensual, I guess. Not actually… See, now I feel weird. Rape is an awful thing."

"It is. It's a terrible strife for a person to go through and the aftermath can be horrendous." Gerard sipped his tea thoughtfully, "But, that's not to say that someone being forced into sex by another person in a scene where they've discussed it beforehand can't be attractive. What if I held you down and made you cry and fucked you even if you didn't want it? Would you be okay with it?"

"More than 'okay'." Frank whispered as his cheeks flushed, "I just… I get it. A lot of these things are experienced in a scene with someone I trust because I have that privilege. Not everyone has the privilege to experience it within their control."

"The entirety of the bondage lifestyle was created from a privilege, boy. Our entire dynamic is a privilege to experience on its own without the backlash and turmoil. Master and slave, flogging, consent… It's all based upon things that people have had taken away, or have had thrust upon them, whether they like it or not. To be able to be who we are is a tremendous opportunity that you cannot squander. Be lucky, boy."

"I am." Frank looked down at the contact, the pen in his hand shaking slightly, "Don't you feel guilty sometimes?"

"I used to in the beginning." Gerard shrugged, "But I don't anymore. I acknowledge the history of my lifestyle and live within its confines with respect and a willingness to adapt. And you should, too."

"Yes, sir."

“Keep going, boy."

“Capnolagnia: smoking? No. Cathterophilia: sexual arousal from inserting a catheter? Fuck that… Chezolagnia: masturbating while defecating. No way. Chre-Chremastis...tophilia- Fuck- Being robbed or held up. I can see how the rush would get you going, for sure. But it's not for me. Chronophilia: partners of a widely differing chronological age. Do we count as ‘partners of a widely differing chronological age’?”

“Well, you’re twenty-two now…” Gerard replied, “I’m thirty-six. That’s fourteen years between us. That’s a whole young teenager’s span of a lifetime.”

“So…?” Frank still lined the kink in green, grinning slightly, “No wonder I liked Tom Selleck.”

“Oh, did you?”

“I was more of a George Clooney man, myself.” Frank sipped his tea, “More neatly groomed. Tom is too hairy for me, I’m not into big bears.”

“I see. Silver foxes for you, then.” Gerard chuckled.

“Tangerine foxes, as it were.” Frank tapped Gerard’s head with the side of his marker before continuing, “Coprolagnia: sexual excitement derived from eating feces? I’m actually gonna be sick. No. Coprolalia: sexual excitement from dirty words? Definitely. Coprophilia: feces, also known as scat, scatophilia, or necrophilia. Also known as ‘get the fuck away’. Dacryphilia: tears or crying? Maybe… I mean, situationally.”

“Of course.”

“Diaper fetishism? Oh, c’mon. Diapers with considerable overlap with paraphilic infantilism. Never on your life. Dendrophilia: trees. Trees? Y- Wh- Trees? No.”

“No big and tall oak tree getting you flustered, Frank?”

“Ecdyosis,” Frank stated rather loudly over Gerard’s question, “sexual arousal from stripping in front of an audience. Yeah, I’d do that.”

“Did you know that the formal term for a stripper is an ‘ecdysiast’?” Gerard commented as he took a sip of his own gingery-orange brew.

“You take the fun out of things, sometimes.” Frank mumbled under his breath, “Emetophilia: vomit. No. Eproctophilia: flatulence. I- Really? Farting?”

“Huge market in the community actually.” Gerard chuckled, “I, myself, am not a fan, however. I mean yes, I understand it’s natural but, I don’t dare say I’d get off on it.”

“Oh, good. Weight off my back,” Frank rolled his lips into his mouth as he struck red, “Erotic asphyxiation: asphyxia of oneself or others. Yes, please. Erotophonophilia: m-murder, often of strangers, also known as dac- dac...nolagnomania. Seriously?”

“Where do you think sexual sadists come from? Serial killers and such.” Gerard asked back and Frank bit his lip, nodding rather stiffly.

“It’s a 'no',” Frank muttered again as he lined the word in crimson and moved on, “Exhibitionism: exposing one's genitals to unsuspecting and non-consenting others. I used to do this in kindergarten.”

“I’m not surprised at all.” Gerard chuckled, “Girls or boys?”

“Well, I never liked the girls but I always loved their horrified reactions to my dick when I did it. Boys just laughed, it wasn’t as fun. Funnily enough, now it’s the opposite, boys are horrified when I show them my dick, and girls laugh.”

“Frank, if I may-” Gerard cleared his throat, “How many people have seen your genitals?”

“High school was a rough time to try and find oneself.” Frank replied cryptically and Gerard stared at him for a while, “Not as many as it sounds. Kids in gym class, Ryan, Jamia and the doctor, I guess.”

“Oh.” Gerard frowned, “You made it sound like you just went around showing everyone what you had to offer.”

“I don’t have much to brag about; not much to offer." Frank shrugged, striking green through ‘exhibitionism’, “So, I don’t go around boasting.”

“You have more than enough to boast about.” Gerard replied, his face in all seriousness, “From what I can remember anyway.”

“You really know how to make a girl blush, Mr. Way.” Frank crooned in a sultry voice, “But we have… Feederism: eating, feeding, and weight gain. Big nope. Formicophilia: being crawled on by insects, I’d rather be crawled on by Satan himself. Forniphilia: turning a human being into a piece of furniture. Yes. Frotteurism: rubbing against a non-consenting person. Totally. Galateism: sexual attraction to statues. Nien. Gerontophilia: elderly people? Not this guy, sorry. Gynemimetophilia: person sexually aroused by a female impersonator. No. Gynandromorphophilia: transsexual or transgender women… Is this now the opposite, women who were once men?”

“Indeed.”

“I’m- I-I don’t…” Frank suddenly felt awkward in his clothes, in his skin, he suddenly felt guilty for some reason that his hand itched towards the red marker on the desk. He didn’t want to strike through so impersonally, he didn’t want to just say 'no' to every trans woman but that’s just not what he was into, he didn’t mind dressing like a woman for someone but the idea of someone doing it for him just wasn’t his cup of tea. He liked his boys like boys and he knew it, despite the guilt in his stomach, and he cringed as he drew a red line through it.

“Not a fan?”

“Please don’t.” Frank muttered, “I feel like shit for it.”

“You shouldn’t. Your preference is your preference and if someone has a problem with it, it’s too bad for them. You don’t have to like everything and everyone, or this contract wouldn’t exist. But, Frank, honestly. How gay are you? I would be shocked if you told me you were into women. Transgender women are women. If you're gay then you don't like women, Frank. It's okay. I know it's a sensitive topic, what with everything going on in the world but you don't need to feel guilty. What is not your cup of tea will always be someone else's."

“I guess…” Frank bit his lip, “I still feel bad. They get a hard time enough as it is and me just striking out makes me feel like the biggest dick in the world.”

“This isn’t about whether or not you like something in general, boy. This is about whether or not any of these will be used or done in any way to get you off, to turn you on, make you hot and bothered. You can be perfectly okay with liking and admiring transgender people without feeling guilty if they don’t do anything for you. And the same with you, you won’t be everyone’s cup of tea for sure, but you’re someone’s and that’s the person that matters, no one else.”

“Am I your cup of tea?” Frank leaned in, the goofy smile wide on his pierced lips as he looked up at Gerard from under his lashes.

“My boy, if you weren’t, we wouldn’t be doing this. I wouldn’t have spent five grand to buy pants that hug that behind of yours in the best way possible for me to look at all day,” Gerard replied nonchalantly as Frank’s jaw practically dropped to the floor, “Get on with your list boy.”

“My-”

“List.” Gerard urged, tapping the pages and Frank slowly tore his gaze from his boss, scowling at him as a huge explosion of sheer smugness and vanity shot off inside of him like fireworks.

“Harpaxophilia: arousal from being robbed. I think not. Hedralingus: licking someone’s a-anus,” Frank couldn’t help the giggle that came forth then, making him bite on his index finger as he striped it green, “Fuck yeah, hedralingus- also called rimming. Hematolagnia: drinking or looking at blood. Maybe. Heterophilia: the idealization of heterosexuality and/or people who are ‘straight-acting’, especially by non-heterosexual people. What the fuck, no. Homeovestism: wearing clothing emblematic of one's own sex. Alright, yeah.”

“All for the rimming, I see.” Gerard smiled and Frank let out the smallest whimper at the idea, “Like it?”

“Well…” Frank trailed off, blushing, “I like the idea of it.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve never… Done it.”

“At all? Not yourself or to your partner?” Gerard seemed astounded by that, his eyes widening drastically as Frank shrunk in his seat, “What in God’s name did you do for six years?”

“Not rimming, that I can tell you.”

“Hang on, just tell me quickly, so I can gauge. What _did_ you do?”

“Well, Ryan was insistent on missionary every time. He was on top every few times maybe once every two months? Sex was always on Tuesdays- date night, and always after dinner on my side of the bed with the lights off. All clothes off. No blowjobs because he didn’t think it was hygienic, he didn’t like the feel of them from my side, handjobs were a 'maybe' if the time was right, rimming was a definite 'no' and I got doggy style on my birthdays or when he was drunk, which was my birthdays, to deal with the idea of being railed from behind.”

“I…” Gerard stared at Frank in disbelief, his hand rubbing slowly over his mouth as he leaned his elbow on the armrest of his chair, “Then tell me, the most adventurous sex you’ve had was...?”

“School bathroom in senior year. He gave me a handjob at lunchtime. Out of school, I’d have to say the time we fucked watching a movie on the sofa. It was adventurous because it was a Friday night and he instigated. Best time of my life, really. It’s also why I can’t watch The Notebook without getting insanely hard.” Frank sighed, “Don’t you dare judge me.”

“How he didn’t like a blowjob from you astounds me.” Gerard whispered and Frank grinned proudly, blushing at the random praise, “I’m being all the more serious, boy. That mouth of yours…”

“I-” Frank waved his hand at Gerard as he turned to the contract again, clearing his throat, “Homilophilia: sexual arousal from hearing sermons. Sermons, though? Like, God gets you off?”

“Sexuoerotic arousal and pleasure from hearing or giving sermons and speeches.” Gerard clarified and Frank shook his head, striking it yellow, “Keeping that in mind.”

“Hoplophilia: firearms, guns. Nope. Hybristophilia: criminals, particularly for cruel or outrageous crimes. Nah. Hypophilia: breath play wherein sexual pleasure is derived from limiting the intake of oxygen. Usually accomplished by temporary choking. Very dangerous. Oh, fuck yeah. Iantronudia: sexual arousal from exposing oneself to a medical doctor. Definitely not. Iconolagny: sexual arousal from statues of nude people, can’t say so. Infantophilia,” Frank sighed out, pinching the bridge of his nose before he continued, “Pedophilia with a focus on children less than five years old- five? That’s… Five.”

“It is what it is, Frank. The lifestyle and its fetishes aren’t for the faint of heart.” Gerard gave Frank a reassuring squeeze on the knee, “Keep going.”

“Right,” Frank frowned at the list, “Kleptophilia: stealing, also known as kleptolagnia. No. Klismaphilia: e-enemas, arousal, and enjoyment in receiving, administering, or both. Hell, no.”

“So, solid objects only, no liquids?” Gerard mused and Frank fumed silently at his boss’ joke, choosing to ignore it.

“Knismolagnia: sexual arousal from tickling? Maybe. Liquidophilia: genitals in liquids? Yeah, alright. Macrophilia: giant beings, the imagined growth of beings. No, sorry. Macrogenitalism: sexual arousal from outsized genitals? What? No, what? Like, just a big dick or like, bull’s balls?”

“The latter.”

“Ew.” Frank shuddered, taking a large gulp of his lukewarm tea, swallowing with a hissed-breath, “Maschalagnia: armpits? No, thank you. Masochism: suffering or humiliation, being beaten, bound, or otherwise abused… Well, if that ain’t me. Checking those boxes a million times over. Mechanophilia: cars or other machines also ‘mechaphilia’. No. Melolagnia: music? Maybe. Merinthophilia: sexual arousal from bondage? Sign me the fuck up. Metrophilia: poetry. No. Morphophilia: particular body shapes or sizes? Yes. Mucophilia: mucus?” Frank gagged suddenly at the last one, shuddering as he lined the word twice in red, his lips pulled in a grimace.

“This is good, you’re about halfway with this part.” Gerard smiled.

“A few more, then I really think I need a break.” Frank muttered, squirming in his chair.

“We can go and get lunch, if you like.” Gerard smiled, “There’s a place around the corner.”

“Alright.” Frank stifled a yawn, “Mysophilia: dirtiness, soiled or decaying things? No. Narratophilia: Obscene words. Oh, hell yes.”

“I can tell.” Gerard murmured softly and Frank shook his words off quickly, trying not to act as though it got to him.

“Nasophilia: noses? Nope. Necrophilia: corpses? Gross as fuck. Objectophilia: Specific inanimate objects. Yes. Oculolinctus: licking the- licking the eyeballs? What the hell?”

“Oh, yes.” Gerard replied, “That’s a thing.”

  
“Oculophilia: eyes and activities directly relating to and/or involving the eyes. Voyeurism does not meet classification for this term. Then, no. Odax...elangnia: sexual arousal from biting. For sure. Odontophilia: a tooth fetish. Tooth? Like? Teeth get you horny? Yeah, not me.”

“Frank?”

“Yes, sir?” Frank looked beside him at his boss, who was staring back with an unreadable expression, “Sir?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to see your face. Continue.” Gerard gestured to the contract and Frank did a small double-take looking at Gerard and the pages, frowning slightly before he looked down, blush tinting his face yet again.

“Ophidiophilia: sexual arousal from snakes? Not from this guy. Olfactophilia: smells and odors emanating from the body, especially the sexual areas. Yes. Omorashi: arousal from having a full bladder and/or wetting oneself, or from seeing someone else experiencing a full bladder and/or wetting themselves? Yes. Osphresiolagnia: sexual arousal from foul smells? Definitely not. Paraphilic infantilism: D- No. Y’know I’m not even gonna read it. No.” Frank scowled at the page, hearing Gerard chuckle beside him.

“It really bugs you, boy?”

“It does.” Frank muttered, “Doesn’t it bug you?”

“Not particularly, but I find that in that part of the lifestyle when being a carer and not as much of a Master or Dominant, it helps to be a lot softer, a lot less stern and cold as I am. Yes, the same rules apply but you’re dealing with a person who goes into the headspace of a child, and dealing with that is something special. I don’t want to have that in me, I prefer my submissives adult and able to think for themselves as you do. I don’t think I’d have the patience for that, and I have waited three hours for an orgasm.”

“P-Partialism,” Frank sputtered softly, ”Sp-Specific, non-genital body parts. Yes. Pedophilia:- No. Peodeiktophilia: exposing one's penis. Sure. Pedovestism: dressing like a child? No. Phallophilia: f-fetish for large, oh… L-Large penises.”

“Well, Frank?”

“You-You’re just…” Frank struck it green with a glare, “Not helping.”

“I’m taking that green line as a compliment.”

“Podophilia: feet? Yes. Definitely. Pictophilia: pornography or erotic art, particularly pictures. My version of the bible, yes. Piquerism: piercing the flesh of another person, most commonly by stabbing or cutting the body with sharp objects… Maybe.”

“Feet, huh?”

“I love feet.” Frank admitted, “I know a lot of people don’t but, oh, my God, a nice pair of feet just… I’ve never done anything sexual or anything but I can’t help but notice a person’s feet before any other part of them. I think I like them more than the normal person would.”

“I’ll keep that in advisement.” Gerard smiled, “Go on, you’re doing intrinsically well, boy.”

“Plushophilia: stuffed toy animals. Can’t say I have that. Red. Pygmalianism: sex with statues or inanimate objects. Red. Pygophilemania: sexual arousal from kissing butt cheeks.” Frank couldn’t help giggling at that, snickering like a child for some reason as Gerard looked at him, “Sorry I- Green. Fuck it. Pygophilia: buttocks, as in a highly atypical sexual interest focused on the buttocks. Green and green and green. Pyrophilia: fire? No. Sadism: inflicting pain on others? Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to it at all, I’ve never tried it but… Eh, green. Salirophilia: soiling or dirtying others? Yellow. Depends on the dirt. Sexual fetishism? Obviously, green. Somnophilia: sleeping or unconscious people? Yellow.”

“Some interesting choices you’re making. I’m glad you’re not just sticking to the safe stuff. You’re less ‘vanilla’ than I thought.”

Frank stared at him then, nodding slowly despite not quite understanding exactly what the word meant entirely. And then a thought popped into his head, a sudden thought that made him burst out in a fit of laughter, surprising Gerard and making him jump in his seat, “I-I’m less vanilla than you think,” Frank trailed off in a chuckle, the grin never leaving his face, “Vanilla… Ice.”

“I beg your pardon?” Gerard stared at his assistant, who took on a thoughtful expression and leaned forward.

“Y’know as ‘vanilla’ as I am, I do the extreme.”

“You what?”

“I do the extreme, sometimes I rock the mic like a vandal… Hell, I even light up the stage and wax the chumps like a candle.” Frank replied matter-of-factly as Gerard looked him over before slowly burying his face in his hands, making the latter giggle.

“You baffle me.” Gerard stated, his voice muffled by his hands, “You picked now of all moments to nonchalantly, somewhat-paraphrase ‘Vanilla Ice’?”

“There is never a wrong time to 'Ice, Ice, Baby'.” Frank picked up his tea and took a sip, “I wanna take a break now, I’m starving.”

“What would you like to do? We could cook MC’s like a pound of bacon, or we could have some 'souped-up' tempo?” Gerard asked nonchalantly and Frank’s mouth opened in awe, looking at his boss in complete surprise, “I know my music, thank you.”

“I swear to God, I’m gonna hump your leg.”

“Lunch first, boy.”

“Right…” Frank sighed out dramatically, “We’re gonna finish this so we can go out?”

“It would be a good idea.” Gerard smiled warmly, “Go on.”

“We’re at…” Frank glanced at the contract, the last line in yellow, “Sophophilia: learning. Yeah, maybe, if it’s about this stuff.”

“Good. Keep going.”

“Sthenolagnia: muscles and displays of strength? Nah, doesn’t do anything for me. Red. Next is… Stigmatophilia: body piercings and tattoos. Well, I mean… Green.” Frank chuckled, “Is that an obvious one?”

“I have to ask though, considering you did mark it green. You’re obviously physically into it, but if I were to be your Dominant, does it bug you that I don’t have any body modifications of my own?”

“Wh-? No, of course not. Ryan didn’t have anything either and I didn’t see him in any lesser light than I would have if he looked like me.”

“Oh, good. I just need to check.” Gerard waved a hand dismissively, “Keep on going, boy.”

“Symphorophilia: witnessing or staging disasters such as car accidents? Whoa… This is like that movie with that guy- uh-... James? James Spader, right? They do shit like that, I swear.”

“Crash.” Gerard nodded, “1996, James Spader and Deborah Kara Unger. Good film.”

“Of course, you’d know.” Frank snickered, “Kinky old perv. But no, red for that. Next! Telephone scatologia: obscene phone calls, particularly to strangers; also known as telephonicophilia? Not for me. Red. Teratophilia: deformed or ‘monstrous’ people. I don’t like that they use that word for them. That’s awful.”

“This wasn’t my wording, boy. This is what my attorney printed for me with the usage of many factors and sources. Direct citation.”

“Direct citation is cruel.” Frank sighed, scratching it through in red, “Timophilia: sexual arousal from wealth. Well, then. Uh… I mean money is money but if that money can buy me a pool filled with dildos then it gets me off. So, I’m gonna say ‘maybe’. Yellow. Toucherism: touching an unsuspecting, non-consenting person with the hand. Green. Next. Toxophilia: archery. Archery? What is this, Hunger Games?”

“Some people like what they like, boy. Some person with ‘toxophilia’ may think it’s weird that you’re into pornography or bondage.”

“I suppose…” Frank bit his lip, feeling guilty from Gerard’s look of consternation, “Last few. Okay. I can do this. Right. Transvestic fetishism: wearing clothes associated with the opposite sex, also known as transvestism. Green. Transvestophilia: a transsexual partner, not to be confused with transgender. Yellow. Trichophilia: hair. Oh, God, yes. But 'hair' hair, not body hair. Troilism: cuckoldism, watching one's partner have sex with someone else, possibly without the third party's knowledge. Fuck, no. Reddy, red, red. Next. Urolagnia: urination, particularly in public, on others, and/or being urinated on. Also referred to as ‘watersports’. Green.”

“You seem particularly interested in that,” Gerard commented, leaning in his chair towards Frank, resting his arm on the rest, chin in his hand with his ring finger slowly stroking his bottom lip, the action mesmerizing, to say the least.

“Vor-Vorarephilia,” Frank whispered before repeating himself in a decibel louder and higher, clearing his throat, “The idea of one person or creature eating or being eaten by another; usually swallowed whole, in one piece, also known as 'vore'. Fuck, no. Voyeurism: watching others while naked or having sex, generally without their knowledge; also known as scopophilia or coptophilia? Yes, green. Wet and messy fetishism: messy situations, including, but not limited to, being pied, gunged, or covered in mud. Oh, God. No. No, no, no. Nonono, I don’t, I-”

“Mess gives you anxiety?” Gerard queried with a raised eyebrow and Frank nodded.

“Not… Not clutter, I’m okay with clutter and un-untidiness but actual messes like food or mud or like… Mess. I can’t- I just- I can’t. It-”

“Hey, Frank.” Gerard put his hand on the latter’s carefully, stroking it slowly, instantly making Frank stop speaking, his eyes darting down to their hands as he trembled a fraction, “It’s alright. You’re alright. No one is making you do anything here with which you’re uncomfortable. If mess is a hard limit, there won’t be any mess whatsoever, okay?”

“You swear?” Frank looked up at Gerard with earnest, with hope and Gerard smiled, giving his hand a squeeze, his gesture instantly calming him somewhat greater, “O-Okay.”

“Good boy.” Gerard leaned in slowly, his lips pressed against the side of Frank’s head in a familiar comforting gesture. Frank closed his eyes, taking in a relatively shaky breath, “There we go.”

“Yeah, I…” Frank swallowed, “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“I’ll be alright.” Frank nodded, “What’s next?”

“Zelophilia,” Gerard replied in a slightly softer tone, taking the marker from Frank’s shaky hand, “Sexual arousal from jealousy. Which I have already seen in you.”

“Yeah, green.” Frank nodded as he tried to steady his heart rate, cursing himself internally, “Next?”

“Zoophilia: animals,” Gerard stated before picking up the red marker, “I’m assuming from your previous behavior.”

“Definitely.”

“The last one is an unfortunate one. Zoosadism: inflicting pain on or seeing animals in pain.” Gerard stated and Frank’s heart rate shot up at the thought and he clutched the desk, not quite finished with the rivulets of anxiety that had jumped into his system, already worked up by the idea of ‘mess’, the idea of hurting an animal, in general, made him sick to his core.

“No. No. Red. No.” Frank shook his head vehemently, “I-I don’t-” Frank got up from the chair, his body being still was just too much, his anxiety made his fidgeting kick into hyperdrive and he had to move, he had to pace or pick or jump or anything to get rid of what felt like the physical crawling of tiny insects in his veins. He shook his hands at his sides as he paced, breathing rapidly. His head was swimming, his eyes unfocused from everything around him when he felt a strong but reassuring pair of hands on his upper arms, holding him still before his face was buried in a white cotton shirt, a hand in the back of his hair. Frank let out a whimper, melting against Gerard’s body, against the warmth and sheer safety that was radiating off of the older man.

“It’s okay, Frank. I’ve got you.”


	33. Accidentally Unearthed in the Depths of the Internet

Twenty minutes after Frank had finished a section of his contract, he already found this all a little harder than it actually looked. When Gerard had told him how it would be, he had honestly assumed that the easiest part would be walking on Gerard’s right, and always a step behind. It really seemed so easy in theory, but when he actually had to do it, Frank found himself struggling.

After he had been calmed, Gerard had excused himself for a few minutes, more than likely telling Derek or Lindsey that they would be out. Frank had been standing, unable to sit back down because he felt so unnerved in his own skin. It had been easy leaving the office once he had calmed down enough because it was only a short distance from where they had been to the car outside, but once they out of the car and heading to where they were going to be eating, that was when Frank found himself feeling like he hadn’t walked before. He was stumbling over his own two feet and he hated how he hadn’t picked this up as quickly as he thought he would. Frank found himself concentrating on walking more than he usually would while he kept his eyes down. He tried to focus on his steps and pay more attention to his own footing. Gerard walked so much more confidently than he did and Frank found it a little unnerving, especially when he didn’t want to annoy Gerard. He could do this; it was just a matter of adjusting. that’s all. He realized he was practically lined up with Gerard, mentally cursing before he slowed down again to stay behind him.

“Are you okay, boy?” Gerard queried curiously. Frank heard the question, his head snapped up and he saw Gerard looking over his shoulder at him.

“M’good, sir.” Frank nodded as he looked back down, paying close attention to his feet, listening to the sound of Gerard walking on the pavement, trying to match up with his steps. Frank didn't want Gerard to notice that he was struggling. He wanted to believe that he wasn't getting worked up over this, but internally he was. Inside his head, Frank found himself worrying about this more than he thought. Frank found himself tripping a little when they turned a corner, blushing at how ridiculous he probably looked. Nobody was looking at him, Gerard included, thank God, but he swore that so many eyes were on him.

“Perhaps you are completely overthinking this whole ‘walking one step behind me’ part of the relationship,” Gerard commented without looking back. Frank’s cheeks went warm, realizing that Gerard was onto him. Frank opened his mouth to respond but thought against it because he hadn't actually been given permission to talk. At least Frank had a good understanding of _that_ part of the contract.

“You don't have to literally walk one step behind me, sweet boy.” Gerard continued as he finally looked back at Frank, his gaze softer than Frank had expected. He thought that Gerard would have been annoyed at him, “It's just a general idea. As long as you are close behind then you really don't need to worry too much about how many steps are between yourself and I.”

“Oh,” Frank breathed out, feeling himself relax almost instantly, “Thank you, sir.”

“You're most certainly welcome,” Gerard responded, “I don't want you over-complicating something as simple as this. I know you can do this, rather well as a matter of fact… You just need to not think about this so literally. Now, another point, it is polite and courteous for the sub to hold doors open for their Master.” Frank saw where they were once Gerard had spoken and he stepped ahead toward the door, holding it open.

“Thank you, boy,” Gerard spoke as he took a step into the restaurant. Frank followed behind him, a little more relaxed this time, before Gerard spoke again, “You will get the hang of this, I'm sure of it.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Now, once we are seated, it is also customary for you to pull my chair out for me and wait for me to be seated before you take your own seat.” Gerard put his hands in his pockets and looked sideways at Frank, “At what side?”

“The right,” Frank answered confidently, “Always the right, sir.”

“Good boy.” Gerard smiled, his praise affecting Frank more than he thought it would, a giddy circle of butterflies tugged at his intestines like wildvines. Now that this was actually happening, Gerard’s words meant a considerable amount more than they had when he first got the job. When a waiter guided them over to a table, Frank took it upon himself to follow his preset instructions by going rushing ahead to pull out the left chair, holding onto the back of the seat while Gerard sat. He pushed it in, making sure that Gerard was comfortable and happy before he sat in the chair to the right, holding his hands in his lap.

Frank watched as Gerard took a menu from the waiter. Naturally, he thought about taking one when the waiter held one out for him, but he remembered and shook his head politely. Gerard opened his black-leather menu, asking for a few minutes to decide as he scanned over the choices he had in front of him, “You're doing well, boy,”.

“Thank you, sir,” Frank nodded his head, “I’m trying.”

“It’s not so much about 'trying',” Gerard commented, “I completely understand that this is an adjustment for you, but you are doing well.” Frank smiled at that, feeling the need to thank Gerard again, but he held back when their waiter returned, asking what they wanted to drink.

“I'd like two iced teas, one lemon and one peach, please,” Gerard ordered and Frank watched the waiter while he wrote it down, “We just need a few more minutes before we order food, thank you.”

“So,” Gerard started when the waiter strode off to help another couple nearby. He looked at Frank briefly before he set his menu down on the table, “Since we’re taking a break from the contract, I want to give you this opportunity to ask me anything that you feel you want to know. I understand that what you are doing is a lot to take in, so this is a good time to question anything you don't comprehend or want to know more about.”

“Okay,” Frank replied, so many questions already popping into his head. This was such a big step he was taking and he didn't want to feel out of his depth before he carried on with the contract, “I do have some questions.”

“Then don't hesitate to ask. You are with to someone who actually knows what he’s talking about with all of this, after all.”

“How does someone even get into this?” Frank shot his first question out quicker than he thought he would. He looked at the woodgrain of the table as his brow furrowed, “I guess you don't just wake up one day and realize that you’re into all things kinky. There has to be a point when you find it and figure it out.”

“That’s a good question,” Gerard noted, “It’s not the same for everyone. Each individual who decides that this is a lifestyle for them finds it in different ways. Some may discover it through pornography, not meaning to find it but then they realize that it is something they could be into. They search more and then that is when they find out that they want in on what they once accidentally unearthed in the depths of the internet.”

“Like one time when I accidentally stumbled on some stuff that probably would have turned Ryan’s hair white.” Frank chuckled softly to himself.

“But it interested you?”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Frank shrugged. He wouldn’t have been here otherwise if none of this interested him, “But it wasn’t exactly like I could act on it considering I was dating a glorified nun.”  
  
“You see-” Gerard started, only stopping when their waiter appeared at the side of their table, holding onto a tray, placing their drinks on the table, asking if they were ready to order, “Yes, we are. I will have the chicken croissant and for the young gentleman on my right, can we please get your chicken and feta salad.”

“N-No cucumber.” Frank piped up as the waiter walked away, grimacing as he looked at Gerard, “Sorry, I’m, uh, I’m allergic.”

“Duly noted.” Gerard smiled as he took a sip of his tea. Frank remained silent as he sipped his lemon tea, waiting patiently for the waiter to leave so they could continue talking, “Now, where was I? Ah, yes, from what you have told me about Ryan, he was not one for change.”  
  
Frank shook his head, “Definitely not.”

“You, boy, I can tell that you were stifled. You had discovered something that you were interested in, but being with who you were with, there was no way you would ever have been able to divulge in your interest.” Gerard spoke fluidly, a casual wave of his hand. Frank nodded, looking down at his own lap because talking like this had him thinking about how his past relationship had been so stale. Gerard merely continued after another sip, “This is one of the other ways that people get into this lifestyle, Just like yourself, dear boy, you found someone who was already a part of it all.”

Frank blushed at that, trying to hide his emotions when he felt a hand on his thigh under the table. Gerard giving his leg a squeeze before he brought it back up and rested his chin on his entwined hands with such effortless grace, “If someone is interested then they can go out of their way to find other people in the lifestyle. They look to learn and become a part of it. Sometimes finding someone to be submissive to, or learn to become someone's Master. It’s all about finding the right people, mind you. Unfortunately, there are some people out there who do practice it incorrectly.”

“Good thing I found you, sir,” Frank commented, remembering what he had read in the small segment of the contract about the consequences of incorrect and naive practicing.

“Yes, I am one of the few who have complete knowledge and an almost-full understanding on how to do this. Although, one never stops learning in this lifestyle, I can assure you that you are in good hands even if these hands will be used to punish.”

Frank swallowed hard and tried his best not to look at Gerard's hands. The ideas that went through his mind made his stomach want to pole vault over his diaphragm, but he remained calm, choosing to drink some more of his iced tea instead.

“Then, there are people who find out about it all through research,” Gerard continued, “Articles on the internet, finding out about it in books. There are so many different ways that people get into the lifestyle. I feel we could have a full in-depth conversation about this for quite some time, but I won’t bore you with all of that.”

“How did you get into it?” Frank asked, his brain furred with vast intrigue at the idea. He knew that Gerard practically screamed 'Master' just from his demeanor alone, but Frank wondered if it had always been that way. Had Gerard always been this refined and dignified with his disposition or was it something that had been carved over so many years like a marble statue?

“I was in a relationship when I wasn’t much older than yourself,” Gerard replied as he glanced over at Frank with a smile. Frank felt relieved at the easy expression on his Master’s face because he had hoped that he hadn’t overstepped the line by asking something so personal. Gerard swirled his straw slowly around the edge of his glass, “My then-boyfriend learned about the lifestyle and told me about it. He was keen to give it a try and I was more than willing to do it for him because we were in a long-term relationship. He liked the idea of submitting so naturally, and in doing so, I had to learn how to be who I am today.”

“And you became interested?”  
  
“Clearly,” Gerard chuckled dryly, “My boy, if I wasn’t interested in it, do you think we would be talking about this?”

Frank wondered about that, remembering one thing that Gerard had told him earlier in the office that made him pipe up, “Pretty sure we would, especially after you said how you would have swept me up before any of this happened if it were just a relationship.”

“Very true,” Gerard nodded, impressed by Frank’s recollection, “You’re a good listener.”

“One of my many amazing qualities.” Frank smiled proudly at Gerard before sipping on his drink.

“I’m sure you have many qualities that I am yet to discover,” Gerard replied swiftly, making Frank's insides twist when he looked at him, “But, now is not the time to be getting into that area. Especially when you haven’t finished your contract. Plus, I’m sure you have more questions that you want to ask, am I correct?”

“Yeah...” Frank nodded but remained silent when their waiter appeared. By the time the salad was in front of Frank, he realized just how hungry he was considering it was already somewhere near two in the afternoon. He grabbed his fork and picked up a piece of cheese, biting into it when he saw Gerard looking at him with a piqued eyebrow. He swallowed, “What did I do?”.

“When you eat with your Master, you wait for permission to begin. And it’s also courteous to thank him as well.” Gerard explained briefly, making Frank drop his fork back onto his plate, still laden with lettuce.

He wiped his mouth on his napkin while his cheeks went red, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay. You’re still learning,” Gerard waved the mistake off, “Now, what do you say?”

“Can I begin, sir?” Frank asked straight away.

“Of course. Anything else?”  
  
“Thank you, sir.”

“Good boy,” Gerard smiled before going to start his own food. He picked up his napkin, and placed it on his lap and began cutting into his food, “I believe you were going to ask me something more?”

“Yeah,” Frank remembered, “One thing I wondered… How does this all work when we’re, y’know, out in public?” He reached out to pour some salad dressing over his food with a small smile, watching Gerard chew and swallow a bite before answering.

“When we are out together, you will be my assistant,” Gerard stated clearly. Frank couldn’t help the frown that immediately settled between his eyebrows. Gerard saw the small disparage and he added, “Don’t look so confused. The reason I say that is because, well, there isn’t really any other way we can be seen out together, boy. What with my status and what I do, it will be impossible for us to be seen out together in any other way. Plus, the age gap is a tumultuous factor. People could easily get suspicious over a twenty-year-old and a man in his thirties spending time together.”

“Oh… Okay.” Frank understood once Gerard had explained, and it made sense with who he was and the power he had.

“You will still keep up with your rules while with me, however,” Gerard continued, pausing on his lunch for a moment, “Walking one step behind, always being on my right, only speaking when you are spoken to. You must always be on your best behavior, understand?”

Frank nodded obediently, swallowing some salad, “Yes, sir.”

“Plus, you won’t always be able to wear your collar,” Gerard carried on, reminding Frank of the way that he had reacted earlier when he had said that he would own him. That same feeling residing inside Frank while he attempted to eat, hiding it all while he chewed slowly on his a piece of tomato. Gerard eyed him devilishly, “You will be given an alternative piece of jewelry to wear when the collar isn’t possible, but that doesn’t mean you can be disobedient. You will still be who you are to me, and I expect you to behave.”

“I will, sir.”

“You will need to be professional at all times, but don’t forget who you belong to.” Gerard finished his statement and continued to eat. Frank sat there, reeling from the words. _Don’t forget who you belong to_. The six words that made his stomach twist like it was knotting up all over again. The idea of being owned by Gerard, who could do whatever he wanted to him- With him- How ever he saw fit. Frank took another bite out of his lettuce before having some of his drink, watching Gerard from the corner of his eye while he processed the fact that he was now Gerard's- His Master's. A shiver ran down Frank's spine when he thought about it all.

“So, how will it all work in the office?” Frank asked, seeing as Gerard had brought up how he would still present himself as his assistant.

“Again, you are my assistant. You will still behave accordingly… But if I say I need to see you then you drop what you’re doing. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing, you listen and you obey.”  
  
“How will I know which way you'll want to see me?” Frank queried, finishing off half of his lunch already, “I might think that you want to see me for _reasons_ when in fact you will probably only want to talk to me about some email or something work-related.”  
  
“You will know, don’t you worry, boy,” Gerard reassured with another cryptic glimmer of a smile, “There are ways that I will be able to tell you why I need to see you.”

“How so?”  
  
“Hand signals that I teach you. Hand signals that only you and I will know the meaning of which. If I were to do this…” Gerard said as he set his cutlery down and put his index fingers together to form a cross, “Do you think you would be able to tell me what it might mean?”

“No idea.”

“It means 'silence'. There are others of which you will learn. So, if I ever need you while we’re somewhere where I cannot openly tell you, you will understand what I mean.”

“Okay,” Frank whispered his head, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by all this information he was being given, but he was so sure of himself.

“I believe that the secrecy of our relationship and the nature of it go hand-in-hand with all of this. You know who I am, what I am, and how my reputation could be affected if anyone were to find out about who you are to me.” Gerard carried on, covering one of the things that Frank had already thought about asking.

“So, no one must know about this?”  
  
“Precisely,” Gerard nodded, “To me, you are what you are, you signed the contract already so we know that, but to anyone else, you are nothing more than my assistant. It could be highly damaging to my cause if anyone were to find out about the lifestyle I am in. Or the fact that you, who is, in fact, one of my employees, are involved with me in any way.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna end up like Monica Lewinsky,” Frank muttered softly and Gerard snorted, holding a hand over his mouth.

“Well, of course not. I wouldn’t want you as Lewinsky any more than I’d want to be Clinton. Although, to be fair, you did the same thing she supposedly did.”

“Wasn’t she also twenty-two?” Frank asked as he took a large gulp of his drink.

“She was, but alas, Clinton was already forty-nine.” Gerard shrugged, “I don’t think a larger age gap denounces from the fact that he still got oral sex under his desk.”

“I wasn’t using it as an excuse.” Frank grinned sheepishly, “Just an observation.”

“You observe a lot, don’t you?”

“I do.” Frank smiled and then looked down, his smile diminishing a fraction, “If people know that this lifestyle exists, then why is it such a bad thing?”

“Because people don’t take into consideration the fact that there are people who practice it safely. They assume that we are all the same twisted people who get a kick out of abusing, thinking that there must be something wrong with us if we get pleasure from it all,” Gerard talked confidently, even though there was an edge of annoyance to his voice, “Articles have been published claiming that the lifestyle is romanticizing the idea of abuse, drawing on it because of some of the things that it entails. They also claim that it is a shameful and rarely-curable pathology that afflicts those who cannot experience love and intimacy. If anything, I believe that it is extremely intimate, especially if you find someone who is willing to give themselves to you in that way.”

“Like I have done?”  
  
“Exactly,” Gerard spoke, taking a bite of his croissant before he continued, a thoughtful glance in his eye, “And it’s not just that. People jump to the conclusion that there must be something wrong with a person if they feel that this is the life for them. They assume it is dangerous and completely threatening to their traditional views on love.”  
  
Hearing that word made Frank shudder on the inside. The idea of ‘love’ so soon after Ryan, it scared him. But this was different. It was completely different from the boring normality he had been used to with Ryan. Maybe that was why he wasn’t running away from Gerard, swearing that he wouldn’t get involved. He was more interested in what Gerard had to offer because it was so far from what he had been used to and much more exciting.

“So, this is why it must remain a secret. It’s not just to protect me, but also to protect yourself, too. You are stepping into a world where people would happily look down their noses at you because of your sexual preferences- It doesn’t help that you’re gay and get a bad reputation from that alone from some people. It’s why most people hide the fact that they think of BDSM as a normal and healthy expression of sexuality. They keep it behind closed doors, only talking about it inside the community because there, we won’t be judged and people won’t assume that we are inherently abusive.”

“Fuck,” Frank cursed under his breath, he had never let the thought of it all cross his mind. Yes, the book Gerard had explained to him had opened up his eyes to the horrors before it had all started, but Frank would never have thought of Gerard in that way. Abusive, no, definitely not. He was Dominant for sure, Frank knew that even before he knew that he was that in a literal sense, but he never would have thought of him to be _that_ kind of person. Frank felt sick about the idea of people thinking that way about them just because they did things differently. He looked down at his almost-empty plate, his lips turned down in the corners, “People actually think like that?”

“Of course they do,” Gerard nodded, “People are easy to jump to conclusions over matters that they don’t fully understand. They would rather do that than learn about it because learning about something that makes them uncomfortable, it isn’t what they want to do because it pops their little bubble. Just assuming that someone is abusive to another person is the easiest thing. I may practice it all properly, but I can assure you that if people knew about it, they would jump to the first negative outcome that they could think of; labeling me sick and perverted.”

“Well, I can promise you that I won’t breathe a word to anyone about anything, sir,” Frank reassured both Gerard and himself. He leaned in as he pushed his empty bowl aside, “Our secret is safe with me.”

“Good boy,” Gerard praised him again before wiping his mouth on his napkin, folding it up before setting it down on his empty plate, “Is there anything else that you wanted to ask me? I’m more than confident that Derek is running the office smoothly, so we don’t have to rush back.”

“Yeah, I have a couple more…” Frank paused, his eyes wandered over the restaurant, seeing the other people who were enjoying their lunches, probably completely unaware of the type of conversation that was being had. Frank got nervous all of a sudden, feeling like someone might overhear what they were saying, “I just don’t know if it is something that we can discuss here…”

Gerard noticed Frank watching a few tables near them, looking over before he turned back to him, “My boy, if anyone was going to be listening in on our conversation, they probably would have had a problem when I mentioned pornography earlier.”

Frank flinched at the word and peered over the tables near him again, waiting for someone to start yelling. But there was nothing; no one batted an eyelid or even turned toward them. They were so wrapped up in their own little bubbles of life that the two of them were pretty much incognito. He sighed, feeling a little more comfortable now, “So, when we are not in… What was the word again? It was part three of the contract, I think…”

“You mean 'scenes'?”

“That’s it,” Frank said as he began fiddling with his napkin, “When we are not in scene, how does it all work? How would we be with each other? Does it just stop or is there more to this?”

“When not in scene, there is no play to be had, but I carry the lifestyle both in and out of a scene,” Gerard explained, taking a sip of his drink, “But you still have to listen to me and you are still who you are to me. The only difference is the rules are slightly different and I will be less officious. Overbearing to you, boy.” Gerard reiterated when he saw the look of confusion on his face.

“How would the rules be different?”

“That’s something we can discuss more at home,” Gerard acknowledged the question, “You needn’t worry about that now. We can go over it properly later.”

“Okay,” Frank nodded, knowing that he had one more question left. This question he wasn’t so sure about; Gerard had already mentioned that he got into BDSM with someone in his past, but that was one person. Frank wondered how many there had been before him. God knows why he wanted to ask, “Sir, can I maybe ask a question that might be a bit more personal?”

“Depends on what the question is, boy.”

“How-How many were there before me?” Frank questioned nervously, feeling himself shrink in his seat. He didn’t see it as an overstep because he just wanted a better understanding of the person to whom he was literally giving himself.

Gerard paused for a moment. Frank held his breath, wondering if he was about to be scolded for his intrusive question, but he breathed a sigh of relief when Gerard did finally speak, “Three.”

"Really?” Frank sounded surprised, half expecting there to be a somewhat lengthy list considering the man on his left was strikingly attractive and charismatic in the most authoritative way possible. He blinked, “Only three?”  
  
“Did you assume that there would have been more?” Gerard raised an eyebrow, “Just because I am who I am doesn’t mean I have people falling at my feet, willing to submit. It’s not something I do lightly, carelessly. I consider a lot before I decide if I want to begin something with a person.”

“Like you did with me?” Frank asked curiously, watching Gerard to see if he could read anything from his reaction. A flicker of something behind his eyes or a tell-tale tic.

“You were different, I have to say,” Gerard answered, taking Frank by surprise, “I knew at the time you were taken, but it didn’t stop me. I didn’t have to decide, I just knew. Even if I didn’t know if you would actually agree to all of this when you finally left that monotonous-sounding ex of yours.”

Frank chuckled at that before getting back on point, “So, there were three before me?” ** _  
_**  
“Technically, four. The forth submissive didn't have a contract when we started. It was more of a catharsis.” Gerard nodded, quickly turning his attention to the waiter when he came over to clear their plates away. Gerard thanked him, telling him that there would be nothing more for them before asking for the check. Only once the waiter was walking away, that was when Gerard continued, “Robert- Bert, he was the one who got me into this lifestyle. Then there was Billie and before you came along, Adam.”

That name rang a bell in Frank's head instantly because of what Lindsey had told him when they had lunch together. The guy who went back to Brazil because his working Visa had expired. Frank held back on saying anything to Gerard about how he already knew about him; he didn’t want to get Lindsey in trouble. He immediately got a sinking feeling in his stomach, feeling guilty when he remembered what he had said in the office earlier. That had probably cut right through, hurting Gerard more than Frank had intended.

“Sorry I said what I said earlier in the office, sir…” Frank mumbled out, looking down into his lap as he spoke, “It was meant as a figure of speech more than a direct mention of his name. I didn’t realize.”

“You didn’t know,” Gerard accepted the apology with a courteous nod of his head, “It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that you used that phrase.”

“So, with your previous subs,” Frank continued to question, not realizing that Gerard had tensed up over his curiosity, “Was it like, a similar set up to what I have now, or is it different for everyone? Does everyone have to go through the same contract or is it done to suit one person more than the other? I mean, I get that rules stay the same and stuff, but I just-”

“Some things are better left unquestioned, especially when you have to remember to whom you are talking, boy,” Gerard stopped Frank dead in his tracks, leaning closer to him, his voice low and stern, letting Frank know that he had most definitely overstepped the line. Frank’s voice died in his throat, a chill running down his spine when Gerard watched him for a second, only turning away when he went to pay. Frank sat in silence with his thoughts, knowing that he should probably apologize for what he had asked. The silence felt thick to Frank, like he had fucked up gratuitously. Gerard cleared his throat, “Now, I do believe that you still have a lot of that contract to go through, don’t you?”

Gerard seemed to have moved on from it almost instantly, and for that Frank was grateful. He knew that he could calm down now, not holding his breath while he waited to be told off for his questioning. His stomach still felt like it was going in rapid circles like a spinning top, the dread and panic tasted like bile. Eventually, he would calm down completely and Frank knew it. He watched Gerard check his phone from the corner of his eye and decided to finish the last dregs of his tea. He pursed his lips nervously before continuing, “Actually… I do have one more question…”

“Go on,” Gerard spoke as he typed off an email on his phone, sent it, and turned his attention to Frank, “Quickly before we head back. Don’t want Derek thinking I deserted him.”

“I know I said 'yes' to, um… Pee,” Frank lowered his voice when a woman walked past their table, “But isn’t that kinda gross?

“Far from it,” Gerard replied, pocketing his phone, “Urine is sterile, drinkable and completely safe. Urophagia is a practice which can be dated back to ancient man. People used to drink it for ceremonial purposes, sexual practices like you know and are keen on, and medicinal purposes.”  
  
Frank screwed up his nose, “So, it’s healthy for you?”

“I wouldn’t say 'healthy'. If you ingest a lot of it then it won’t do you any good, but apparently it’s good for certain things. Plus, it is a known fact that it tastes better than ejaculation in any case. Personally, I haven’t tasted it myself, but I have heard that it is much better depending on their diet.”

“Good to know.” Frank blushed and looked down, his mind racing with way too many scenarios.

“There are other benefits to it,” Gerard leaned in close to Frank, making him pay attention to the low hushed tone that had him internally melt, “If you’d want to be covered in my come, I would only be able to cover a small portion of your beautiful skin. But if I pissed on you, I could mark all of you as mine and I could completely own your skin. Every single inch, dear boy. All mine.”

Frank didn’t even know how to respond or react to the words that had just been spoken right into his ear. Gerard lingered far too close to Frank, who internally hoped that Gerard hadn’t noticed the way that his breathing faltered. Of course, he had. Gerard sat back in his chair with a smug look on his face when Frank's mouth fell open. He felt like he wanted to sob, his heart hammering in his chest. He looked at Gerard, wondering how the hell he had done that to his insides just by telling him what he could do. How could he make something like ‘piss’ sound so enthralling and addictive?

“Come on, boy,” Gerard stated as he stood up, fastening his jacket before he looked down at Frank, “You won’t get the contract finished if you keep sitting there with your mouth open like that.”


	34. Also Called ‘WIITWD’, an Acronym for ‘What It Is We Do’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you aren't aware that Vanilla is a book for adults or at least very mature young adults, then this is your notice. If you're under 18, you really shouldn't be reading it. I have put an age limit of at least +17 and up for this book. It's not just some spanking and hair-pulling. It's extremely explicit and not for young children.
> 
> It's not to be an old grump who doesn't think young kids should explore sexuality, it's the opposite. When you're that young, you shouldn't be thinking about things like that. You shouldn't be exposed to it until you're old enough. If you want to continue reading it then I can't physically stop you unless I feel as though you aren't mature enough. 
> 
> I feel it highly irresponsible on my behalf to allow children to read something that isn't appropriate for them. If you disagree with me then that's your opinion and you're welcome to it but I take the authoritative ground because the book belongs to me. 
> 
> I promised a safe space for all my readers and I will continue to uphold that. Younger readers often don't have boundaries or don't understand this is and it can be harmful to themselves and to others who seek solace in my work. If you cannot behave, you will be escorted out. It's a safe space for all and I would rather cater to the needs of many rather than the selfish need of one. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy your journey with any and all of my works and I hope you will uphold your responsibility to your friends and fellow readers by creating a loving and safe community within our reaches of this platform.
> 
> Yours gratefully and dutifully,  
> Parker.
> 
> P.S. I love and appreciate each and every one of you. Even the younger ones. Just because I have to put my foot down as an adult and set boundaries, doesn't mean I don't appreciate you and your support, it just means I care more about your well-being than I do about comments and reads.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Gerard stated softly as Frank lifted his head up off the desk from where it had been buried in his arms, “You look better.”

“I’m okay. I’m calm. Over it.” Frank took in a heavy, slow breath, holding it for a second before he exhaled, nodding, “Yeah. Glad I had lunch after that.”

“We can continue with this another time, boy.” Gerard offered, “Some partners take weeks to fine-tune their contracts.”

“No, I-I’m good. We’re almost done.” Frank waved Gerard off slightly, “I’m excited to get through this.”

“Are you sure?”

Frank replied silently by holding up the green marker in his hand, giving Gerard a small smile before turning the page, looking at the heading, “Section eight-point-four. 'Glossary and Limits'.”

“It’s both. This last section is going to cover almost everything that’s part of the lifestyle from key terms to props to scenes and play. I want you to not only 'soft' and 'hard' limit but make sure you understand these terms, boy.” Gerard ran a finger over the first page of the list, “And don’t be afraid to ask.”

“So, I marker the things as I did before?”

“As you did before. Some are just basic terms and some will be repeated in different names. I’m almost sure there are four different words for a blowjob hidden in there.” Gerard chuckled, “It’s just so that we’re thorough.”

“Thorough is good.” Frank smiled before he crossed his one leg under the other in his chair and wheeled himself closer, “24/7: a relationship in which protocols are in place continuously. Alright yeah, green. Adult Babies: Ageplay wherein the submissive is the baby. This may include diapering, powdering, wearing a pacifier, sleeping in a crib, etc. I wish I had a more red marker for this one.”

“I’ll invest in one for you.” Gerard chuckled and Frank smiled, eyeing his boss before he continued, fiddling with the cap on the marker idly.

  
“Adult Toy Chest: a place where one keeps their sex toys, a sex toy box. Green obviously. Do you already have one, by the way? All of this stuff?”

“I have, yes. Although, I should forewarn you that I don’t recycle toys and props. If you are to become my submissive and at the end of the contract, you leave or you’re to leave prematurely then I let you take ten items and the rest I donate.”

Frank frowned, “Donate?”

“There are people I know who have foundations within the lifestyle that take in second-hand toys and props, clean them and sell them for a cheaper price to Doms and subs who cannot afford to buy them new.”

“That’s pretty cool.” Frank smiled, “So, anything I use won’t have been anyone else’s?”

“I make sure of it. It’s a hygiene issue for me. And I don’t like looking at something and being reminded of a previous submissive when I’m with my current one.” Gerard shrugged, “It’s disorienting. The room itself has props rotated every few months as well. Same things but I also donate the bigger props like my bars and crosses and sawhorses for example.”

“No idea what those are.” Frank chuckled nervously and Gerard put his hand on Frank’s thigh slowly, making him suck in a breath.

“You will,” Gerard reassured, “Keep on.”

“Animal transformation fantasy: fantasy in which the focus is on the sub entering the altered mind-space of a different species, often a dog, cat, or horse. Red, red, red. Abrasion: to wear down the skin by using friction, materials, and toys such as sandpaper, steel wool, rough cloth, and bottlebrushes are often used. Oh, God, that’s…” Frank went pink, running the green marker over the two lines, “Aftercare- Oh, I remember what you said about that. Yeah, green. Ageplay: Usually referring to Daddy/daughter or Mommy/baby role play, does not usually include or imply aspects of incest, but rather the nurturing relationship of parent/child or teacher/student. Fuck every single inch of that.”

Frank looked at Gerard for a second as the latter got up, walking over to a painting in the corner when he swung it open slowly to reveal a safe in the wall that had Frank’s jaw dropping in surprise.

“I have something in here that will help with some of the items on this list that may need more than an explanation.” Gerard punched in a code and the door opened. Frank watched in awe as Gerard reached in and pulled out a thick book before closing the safe and walking back, “Here.”

“What is it?” Frank looked at the plain black cover and then at his boss with a frown.

“This is the book that my attorney used to create this list, not only does it have the name and description but beneath each item or prop there is a picture or a diagram. To help you understand.”

“That’s fucking dope.” Frank grinned as Gerard looked at the list and opened the book to the right page, “Alligator Clamp: a type of nipple clamp with tips that have teeth resembling an alligator's mouth. Most clamps of this style come with removable rubber tips and have adjustment screws to limit how far they can close.”

“There we go.” Gerard pointed with his index finger to the picture at the bottom of the page on the right and Frank glanced over, his body tensing at the sight of the lengthy clip, “You can get these at most hardware stores honestly, they use them for many things in electrical nature.”

“Green,” Frank coughed, lighting the word before continuing, “Anal Dildo: a dildo that is intended to be used with the anus as the receptor. Green. Do I need to look at the picture of everything or just the things I don’t know?”

“Up to you. I mean a dildo is self-explanatory.” Gerard chuckled and Frank couldn’t help the smile that widened on his lips before he carried on.

“Anal Intercourse: Sex using the anus as the receptor. Fuck yes, thanks. Green in every shade. Anal plugs: a butt plug is a sex toy that is designed to be inserted into the rectum for sexual pleasure. Green in the same shade.” Frank looked at the picture underneath the ‘Anal plugs’ heading, staring for a second at the simple black butt plug when he frowned to himself and carried on.

  
“Ankle Cuffs: attachable cuffs, generally made of leather, that enable a Dom to immobilize his submissive’s legs. Green. Ankle Restraints: any device including ankle cuffs that immobilize a submissive’s legs. Green. Animal Training- No. Arm and leg sleeves or binders: a binder is a type of restraint device primarily used in bondage play designed to bind the arms and legs and/or hands and feet to each other or to the body, usually behind the back, and employing a range of bondage equipment including cuffs, rods, straps, and gloves. Whoa… Kinky. Green.”

“I have no doubt about how great you’d look in those,” Gerard commented simply and Frank sucked in a breath at the soft but suggestive tone to Gerard’s voice.

“Aromas: using smells in scenes. Green. Autoclave: professional sterilization device for piercing equipment. Green, obviously. Auctioned off- I- What? No. Please, don’t auction me off.” Frank suddenly whimpered, his eyes wide as he turned to look at Gerard with horror, “I 'safeword' to that.”

“Relax.” Gerard smiled, tucking a piece of Frank’s hair behind his ear, “I’m not letting you out of my possession in the slightest.”

“Good.” Frank mumbled as he striped the line in red three times to make sure before he continued, “Bad pain: pain which is outside hard limits, non-mutual or non-valued, not wished for, and of limited or no value in this context, bad pain refers to unpleasant pain. As a ‘vanilla’ example, imagine soreness after a good workout at the gym versus the pain of breaking a leg. Whoa- Fuck. I-I’m redding that one.”

“I’d be worried if you didn’t,” Gerard replied simply as he flipped the page.

  
“Ball Gag: a device with a rubber ball and straps, which secures the ball in the bottom’s mouth to stifle screams. Why do I love the sound of that?” Frank striped it in green as he turned and looked at the ballgag picture in the book that Gerard was so kind enough to page for him, “Ball Stretching: the practice of stretching the scrotal sack- Wh- so that it hangs lower using weights or other devices to pull on it above the testicles, a-as the sack is pulled, the testicles are squeezed leading to discomfort and sometimes pain. I think the fuck not. Red. And you stop laughing.”

Frank turned to see Gerard hiding his obvious amusement behind his hand, his eyes sparkling with laughter at his assistant, “My apologies.”

  
“Ball Torture: causing pain to the male testicles, also included in CBT or cock and ball torture. Red. Ball Toys: toys used for playing with the scrotum, such as cages, straps, etc. Okay, that’s fine. Green for that. Ball Weights: weights used to stretch the scrotum. Hell no, red.”

Gerard turned the picture and Frank caught sight of the ominous-looking pair of shoes, turning to look at the contract, “Ballet Boots: extremely high heeled boots that require you to stand on the ends of your toes rather than the sole of your foot, usually, they have heels that are 8-9 inches and require considerable training and ability to walk without assistance, sometimes also referred to as bondage boots. Um, I’m gonna have to say 'no'.”

“Good, because I don’t own them anymore. Lindsey found them when I was about to throw them out and she stole them. She wears them often, I just haven’t had the heart to tell her why I owned them in the first place.” Gerard chuckled and Frank opened his mouth to say something before he decided against it and tried to hide the smile before turning back to the page in front of him on the desk.

  
“Barbell: a straight piece of metal used in piercing, as opposed to a ring. Like in my tongue, yeah. Green. Bastinado: the act of whipping the sub's feet, usually the sub would be tied up to restrict movement as the torture is being inflicted, part of impact play. So many times green.” Frank sucked in a breath at the thought, trying to calm himself down already, “B&D: Bondage and Discipline. Although they go together in this phrase, they are not inextricably linked. Bondage means restraining someone in a helpless position- such as being tied up. Discipline is training a person to behave in a certain way. They tend to go together because Dominants tend to do both to their submissive. Green for sure.”

“Always good to know,” Gerard replied simply as he began rolling up the sleeves on his shirt, making Frank falter slightly before he carried on reading.

  
“BDSM or Bondage/Discipline, Dominance/Submission, Sadism/Masochism: a combined acronym often used as a catchall for anything in the kink scene, a popular acronym for activities inclusive of- but not limited to- Bondage, Domination/Discipline, Submission/Sadism & Masochism. Also called 'WIITWD', an acronym for ‘What It Is That We Do.’ Both mean this type of alternative lifestyle. That’s so dope.” Frank muttered, striping the whole paragraph in green as swiftly as possible, “BDSM Toy Box: a place where one keeps their BDSM gear or play equipment. Is this different to the other box?”

“Vastly,” Gerard smiled as he started rolling up his other sleeve, “The one is merely your sex toys, vibrators, dildos, plugs, balls, and rings. The other has the heavier things such as your crops, floggers, restraints, and what have you.”

“Oh, right.” Frank nodded understandingly, “Beating: a general term for such BDSM activities such as flogging, caning, spanking, strapping, etc. Green. Belt: a leather strap used for striking the buttocks. Green, please. Biting: receiving. Yes. Biting: given. Yes. BJ: expression for 'blowjob', ditto in the BDSM lifestyle. We both know where I stand on this.”

“Oh, I don’t think standing is the right position for that.” Gerard mused jokingly and Frank cackled softly as he lined the words in green.

  
“Black sheet party: An orgy for people into BDSM sex. Yellow, maybe.” Frank bit his lip, “Blend Modality: depilation and hair removal using both electrolysis and thermolysis. Uh… No. Blindfold: by blocking out sight, a common technique in the SM scene- the bottom feels more vulnerable and increases the release of endorphins, thus contributing to the excitement in the scene. Fuck, no. Oh, God.”

“Easy, Frank.”  
  


“Sorry,” Frank muttered, feeling the slight heat in his cheeks returning yet again and he looked down, trying his best not to giggle as he decided to keep on with the list, clearing his throat pointedly, “Bloodsports: a group of techniques in which the submissive’s skin is broken and blood is allowed to escape. Such as cutting, using needles, etc. Whoa, yeah, I’d be down for that.”

“Really?”

“Totally.” Frank nodded enthusiastically, “Are-Are you not a fan of it? Fuck- I didn’t even think about your thoughts on these things, I’ve just been going, haven’t I?”

“This is your contract Frank, if there was something I wouldn’t do that you would, I’d tell you. But, so far there hasn’t been anything.” Gerard stated simply, “I’m not a fan of cannibalizing, feces, and murder. Or medical play, for that matter. And like I said, paternalism isn’t for me either.”

“Just those?” Frank turned slightly, looking at Gerard with keen interest now as he set the markers down again.

“Well, there are others. I also don’t like partaking in group sex, I have no issues with swapping or swinging in my personal opinion as a Dominant, but group sex is something I’ve never been keen on. I don’t like infibulation either, or gastric tubes. Those are hard limits for myself.”

“What’s infib- What was it?”

“You’ll see when we get to it but I know you won’t like it so it shouldn’t be of any worry.” Gerard smiled slightly, “You were on 'blood sports'.”

“Next, yeah,” Frank muttered, “Blowjob: fellatio, head, sucking cock. Ni-i-ice… Green. Body Art: artful body modification including piercing, tattoos, and brandings. Green. Body Modification: making alterations to the appearance of the body. Includes, but is not limited to, tattoos, piercings, brandings, scarification. Green. Body Shaving: removal of hair with a razor. Female and male submissives commonly shave their pubic hair clean. Green- but I remember your preference, sir.”

“Good boy.”

“Bondage: making a submissive physically helpless and to a great extent immobilized, acts involving the physical restraint of a partner, techniques include rope ties, handcuffs, leather cuffs, stocks, and mummification. Sign me the fuck up. Bootlicking: licking and cleaning of a Dominant’s boots by a submissive is a common show of submission and can also be a fetish. Green. I’m not kidding when I say I’d literally lick anything of yours.”

“Holding you to that…”

“Some other time?” Frank asked playfully, noting the recollection in Gerard’s eyes as they both seemed to remember Gerard having said that to Frank on the first day they had met.

“Exactly, boy.” Gerard smiled before clearing his throat and pointing to the next word in the list to which Frank turned to look, giggling instantly.

  
“Bottom: one who receives physical sensation from a top in a scene, the one-done-to rather than the do-er. Me, apparently. Boy: term for male submissive. Wait- Wait a second… You-”

“Have been calling you that since I met you?” Gerard asked, his head tilted to the side as Frank’s jaw dropped, and mind physically imploded on itself, staring at Gerard in disbelief.

“I- You… I’m… I’m so…” Frank blinked hard, “I mean, I would never have caught that until now but I-I never- And you just. I’m actually so, like... I’m just…”

“Staggered?” Gerard asked lightly and Frank nodded vigorously still reeling from the fact that Gerard had called him that from the word ‘go’. Since the interview.

“I can’t believe you. I thought it was just a nickname.” Frank chuckled dryly despite not finding it funny at all, he was so astounded that Gerard had been this way and he had no idea about any of it.

“Despite you being taken by someone else, I had wanted you since I saw you and I knew that even if I couldn’t physically own you, I could in my mind. Every time I saw you, I’d push that limit a little more for my own gratification.” Gerard admitted nonchalantly, “I guess it’s the sadist in me.”

“I-... Have no words,” Frank muttered, “I’m... Contract. Boy Toy: a male who is submissive to a dominant. So, I’m your boy toy? Nice. Green. Branding: making a permanent or semi-permanent scar on the skin by burning it with a heated metal object. Usually used by a Master to ‘mark’ his sub as his property. Green. Brat: term for a sub who tries to get the attention of a Dom by ‘acting up.’ Ha-ha, me.”

“Oh, is that so?” Gerard asked with intrigue and Frank felt himself freeze slightly, cursing himself.

“Didn’t realize that was out loud…” Frank whispered.

“I’m gonna keep an eye on you, Frank. You better watch yourself.” Gerard warned and Frank blanched lightly at the tone, wanting to all but whimper out loud but he swallowed it back.

“B-Breath control: the Dominant controls the submissive's breathing. Another type of 'edgeplay' whereby the submissive’s breath is stopped for a short period of time to increase pleasurable sensations. Also called asphyxiaphilia, autoerotic asphyxiation, breath games, breathplay, and hypoxyphilia. Very Dangerous. Also very 'me', thanks. Green.” Frank striped it obediently, “Bukake: a sexual scene where many men masturbate on and give a ‘semen bath’ to a willing submissive. I’ve seen these online. That’s a lot of come, not gonna lie.”

“You’ve seen it before?”

“Porn searching,” Frank nodded, “Didn’t watch it but the thumbnail was very informative.”

“And your thoughts?”

“I don’t mind being lathered in come, no.” Frank shrugged, “But multiple men sounds daunting as hell.”

“Lathered, you say?” Gerard asked simply and Frank couldn’t help but break from his stoic gaze, snickering softly like a child.

“Like a shampoo of sorts, yeah.” Frank carried on, “Although I don’t think come can lather, though. So, it’s more like…”

“Conditioner,” Gerard added with a knowing nod.

“Exactly. But, eh, why not? Green. Bullwhip: a long, heavy leather whip usually longer than 4 feet. Green." Frank looked at the picture in the book before paging over, yelping in fright at the picture before looking down at his crotch in horror.

“That’s the butterfly board I mentioned before.” Gerard chuckled.

“Butterfly Board: a wood board where a male’s scrotum can be nailed or pinned onto. Fucking 'red' as hell. Butt plug. Green. Buttplug Harness: usually a leather harness that prevents a buttplug from being removed either intentionally or accidentally from the rectum. Green.” Frank looked at the diagram in the book with his lips pursed before carrying on with his green marker, “Cage: a bondage practice, wherein the submissive is kept inside a cage, they can be so small as to restrict motion or large enough for two or more people. Green. Candle: a source of hot wax, which is dripped onto the bottom’s body in BDSM play. Fuck yes. Caning: using a rattan cane -although they are made of many other substances- on a submissive. Usually more severe than a flogging. Sign me the fuck up, holy hell.”

“That’s what we’re currently doing, Frank.”

“Right.” Frank frowned, “Dunno why I didn’t piece that together, actually. This is so much better than chess club.”

“You play chess?”

“Love it, actually.” Frank smiled, “Used to play a lot when I was in school but Ryan didn’t like it so I never had anyone to play with.”

“Lucky for you I happen to enjoy a game of chess quite a bit myself, boy,” Gerard smirked, eyeing Frank as he sat back in his chair, hand casually holding his ankle.

“Oh, it’s so ‘on’ like Donkey Kong.” Frank grinned maliciously at the thought, excitement in his stomach was now tenfold, “You’ve been warned, though. It may be one of the few times where I beat you instead.”

Gerard smiled, “It’s nice to have a challenge every now and again. And you seem quite the task, Frank. I look forward to it.”

“Too bad I don’t come with instructions.”

“Maybe not, I’ve never been one to read them,” Gerard, however, shrugged nonchalantly, “That being said, you better come on instruction, though, boy.”  
  
“I-” Frank frowned before it hit him and he went red, “O-Oh..”

  
“Keep going.” Gerard got up from his chair, “I need to go and check on something but the book is here for you if you need.”

“Yes, sir.” Frank watched Gerard walk out before he looked back at the contract and grabbed his favorite green marker, “Cat: an old school expression for an old school BDSM tool of discipline, the ‘cat o' nine tails’. Green. Cat O Nine Tails: a whip that has exactly 9 strands. Some have a knot at the end for increased sensation or sting. Green. Catheter: a flexible tube used in medicine; in BDSM catheters designed for the bladder, often utilized in ‘control’ scenes. Red. Chastity: a form of erotic sexual denial or orgasm denial whereby a person is prevented from access to, or stimulation of, their genitals, save at the whim or choice of their partner, usually by means of a device. Oh, yes, fuck me up.” Frank looked in the book beside him at the whip that had been mentioned and a shudder ran up his spine before he looked at the catheter and shuddered, turning the page to continue.

“Chastity Belt: a device used to keep the submissive chaste when the Dominant is away. Comes in both male and female models. Yes. Chains: multi-use metal links; used to restrain, restrict movement, and/or tie up a submissive. Hell yes. Chauffeuring: driving the master around when needed. Gonna happen anyway, might as well. Choking… Fuck. Green and then some. Circumcision: the cutting away of some or the entire foreskin, in males. In the female, circumcision usually refers to the removal of the c-clitoral hood. Oh, my God, what the hell?”

“What?” Gerard asked as he reappeared a moment later in the doorway, peering in.

“Just… Read something grim.” Frank grimaced at the thought, “Didn’t sound pleasant.”

“Then you know what to do.” Gerard smiled, “Lindsey brought coffee for the office, can I offer you a cup?”

“She’s a saint. Yes, please.” Frank nodded before Gerard disappeared from the doorway. Frank looked down, highlighting red through the latest option, taking in a heavy breath, “Clamp: generic term for any BDSM toy- even if garnered at a hardware store- that can clamp some body part of a submissive. Green. Clingfilm: generic term for the plastic wrap which is used in mummification scenes. Green. Clip: Generic term for any BDSM toy- even if garnered at a hardware store- that can clip some body part of a submissive. Green. Clothespins: wooden or plastic clothespins, typically used to produce pain sensation on the skin. Usually on nipples and genital areas. Green.”

Frank flipped through the last few pages of the book that he had missed, going through each one up until he had reached the diagram of the clothespins, looking at the picture of them pinched on someone’s skin had him shudder and his stomach twist, a soft whimper leaving him automatically, “Clover Nipple Clamps: a type of adjustable nipple clamps that tightens as it is pulled, also known as Japanese Clover Nipple Clamps. Green. Coca-Cola Submissive: a submissive who only obeys the easy stuff or only when he/she feels like it. Wimpy, cry-baby bitch. Red that shit.” Frank muttered, “Cock and ball torture: torture of the male genitals for sexual gratification. Green. Cock Cage: a CBT device that encases a penis shaft inside it. Can be either a solid or web design. Green. Cock Cuff: a chastity device that consists of a tube welded to a handcuff, usually both made of stainless steel. The penis is slid into the tube and the handcuff closes behind the ball sack making removal all but impossible without unlocking the handcuff. A very effective chastity device. Whoa… Green.”

Frank was paging through the book at all of the dick-related accessories when Gerard reappeared with two mugs yet again, walking around the desk to set them down before he slid graciously into his chair and slid closer to Frank. Very close.

“Hi, boy.” Gerard whispered and Frank let out a whimper, not looking at his boss and rather focusing on the marker in his hand as he stroked green through each item so far, “Good.”

“Hi,” Frank bit his lip, deciding to see Gerard’s reaction, “Daddy.”

Gerard froze, his mug halfway to his lips, his eyes widening for a second before he recomposed himself, taking a small sip of coffee, “I thought you didn’t like it?”

“That’s it? That’s all I get?” Frank frowned, turning properly to look at Gerard, who was staring ahead of him at nothing, lips set in a firm line.

“What were you expecting?” Gerard asked casually, shifting in his chair.

“I don’t know but…” Frank shrugged, “I mean I still don’t like it. I don’t- I mean…”

“You really don’t like it?”

“I mean, I’m not gonna judge anyone who does because I kinda get it, but I can’t say that it’s something that would just fall from my mouth when you’re balls deep. I mean I kind of don’t like it enough to be comfortable. I guess if I worked on it, if you wanted it-”

“I don’t.” Gerard replied suddenly, frowning, “I don’t like it. Not anymore.”

“Not…” Frank began when Gerard gave him a warning glance over his coffee mug, making the latter quieten again, biting on his lip, “Sorry, sir.”

“No need to apologize, but I just don’t like it. It’s a hard limit for me, okay?”

“Oh…” Frank frowned down at the contract, his mind racing and wondering for what felt like ages when Gerard pulled him out of his vigil funk. Frank looked down at the hand on his thigh and he sucked in a breath, whimpering.

“I’m going to enjoy teasing you, boy.”

Frank let out a whimper, his leg shaking under the desk when Gerard lay a hand in it, ceasing his trembles as Frank took in a small breath, “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“I’m not doing a thing,” Gerard replied with an innocent expression on his face as he sipped from his coffee mug.

“Cock Ring: Rubber or metal ring that slips around the base of cock and balls; supposed to increase the duration of erection but also has D/s aspects to it. Green. Cock Strap: Leather or neoprene strap that wraps around the base of cock and balls to help improve erection. Green. Cock Sucking. Green, oh god. Cock Torture: Cock and ball torture without the ball torture, giving pain only to the penis shaft. Green somehow more than the other one where my balls get tortured actually. Cock Worship- What?”

“Hmm?” Gerard asked as he swallowed his coffee and set it down again while Frank flipped through the book with a frown in his brows.

“Cock Worship: Cock worship can be used to refer to a scene in which a submissive engages in a ceremony-like honoring of a Dominant's cock. It can also refer simply to the fantasy of worshiping/lavishing attention on the cock. This may involve fellatio, licking, stroking, or any other activities meant to deliver pleasure to the cock,” Frank read out in one go before he turned and looked at Gerard, “If it’s your cock that I’m worshipping, I’d sacrifice virgins, if I have to.”

“Good to know where you’re at, boy.” Gerard smiled devilishly, “Alas, we’re fresh out of virgins.”

“If you hadn’t fucked me a month ago you could have used me, cause I swear to God my virginity was growing back,” Frank muttered and Gerard let out a chuckle as Frank scowled at the pages in front of him.

“I have a question, pup.”

“Yeah?”

“What would you say your libido is like, boy?” Gerard asked selectively, taking another sip from his black coffee cup, “On a one-to-ten, one being 'once every three months' and ten being 'more than four times a day'.”

“Uh…” Frank frowned, “God, I’d love to fuck four times a day but I doubt my ass would handle that.”

“We’re not talking your physical ability, we’re talking about your sex drive now. How salacious is it?”

“One-to-ten I’d say…” Frank thought about it for a moment, “I mean, it’s always been pretty high. I dunno if that’s just me or if it’s because I’d have to go without for ages. But I can tell you at the moment it stands at about a fifteen.”

“Oh?” Gerard chuckled then as Frank nodded solemnly, “Physically?”

“About an eight probably.” Frank shrugged, “Don’t think I could do four times, maybe three and a handjob.”

“Interesting.” Gerard replied slowly, “Very high.”

  
“And you, sir?”

“Ah,” Gerard shifted in his chair slightly, “It’s not fair to compare us, I’m both older and a lot more patient than you. My libido is high but my body can wait.”

“So one-to-ten?” Frank asked curiously, spinning lazily from side to side in his chair.

“Libido is a definite nine and I’d say physically about a seven perhaps.” Gerard chuckled, “I don’t have to hump something every time I feel any sort of sexual depravity coursing through me or I’d never get anything done.”  
  
“Speak for yourself.” Frank muttered heatedly, frustratedly, at himself and his internal organs that seemed hell-bent on running him dry of fluids, “I’ll just… Collar and Leash: worn by the bottom during this type of BDSM play, the Dominant holds the leash and the bottom must follow and obey. Collars are also worn by the submissive as symbols of commitment and ownership. Green, for sure. Collared: Submissive or slave who is owned, usually- but certainly not exclusively- in a loving intimate relationship. I-..”

“Frank?”

“I’m okay...” Frank whispered, suddenly feeling a well-up of emotions at the thought that he would essentially be collared by someone, that he would officially be owned by someone and that despite its outward appearance, he would be in a relationship with someone who did things he wanted to do, that actually wanted intimacy and sex. The idea was maddening and somehow it was something so right.

“Are you sure, boy?” Gerard asked softly, his question only solidifying the emotions in Frank’s chest like a hammer and nail, the simple three-worded question having a much deeper impact than it should. Frank thought that once he was free from Ryan that he would never want to commit to anyone ever again, that the mere idea of being with someone, in general, threw Frank, and had him shaken and terrified. But not now, not here. Somehow this was okay, somehow this commitment wasn’t scary, despite it being so foreboding. It wasn’t white-picket and… It wasn’t Ryan.

“Yeah.” Frank whispered, wiping a sudden and singular tear that came from nowhere, “I was just- Uh- Nah, just thinking of something.”

“But, are you okay?” Gerard urged and Frank turned and looked at Gerard in the eye, face-to-face.

“Yes, sir.” He stated, earnestly hoping Gerard could tell that he was, and it wasn’t a lie, for the first time in so long he finally could say it with a glimmer of truth, “Never been better.”

“Good.” Gerard muttered after a clear scrutinization of Frank’s face, “Good.”

“Collaring,” Frank whispered before turning to the contract, “Collaring: the formal acceptance by a Dominant, of a sub's service, or the ‘ownership’ of a pup by a Master or Trainer. Also, the ceremony when a Dominant commits to a sub, much like a wedding or other contract. Green. Color Codes: such as the handkerchief code of sexual preference. What?”

“Oh,” Gerard turned to the select page in the book, “The 'handkerchief code', also known as the 'hanky code', the 'bandana code', and 'flagging', is a color-coded system, employed usually among the gay male casual-sex seekers or BDSM practitioners to indicate preferred sexual fetishes, what kind of sex they are seeking, and whether they are a top or dominant or bottom or submissive.”

“Oh?” Frank frowned, “What colors are they?”

“We won’t go through the whole list but I can give you some examples like,” Gerard looked at the book, “Black is S&M, dark blue is anal sex, light blue is oral sex, brown is scat-play, green is hustling or prostitution, grey is bondage, orange is anything goes, purple is piercing, red is fisting and yellow is watersports.”

“Oh…” Frank muttered softly before he frowned and looked around, “Is that why you like the color orange?”

“I honestly didn’t even think about that.” Gerard noted, running a hand through his hair, “A good eye on you, boy, very perceptive at times. I like it.”

“Thank you, sir.” Frank took a sip of his coffee, smiling at just how good it was despite it being filtered, somehow because Gerard had made it for him, it tasted ten times better, “Should I keep going?”

“Please.”

“Competitions: competitions have a purpose to make the contestants known and recognized within the BDSM community. Competitions are held to evaluate between whom is the best of a specific skill, be it Dominant or submissive.” Frank frowned, “Competitions can also be a matchmaking device for Dominants and submissives to see where their traits lie. Red. Condom: latex 'rubber' that goes over the penis to prevent diseases and unwanted pregnancy. I mean, I guess but considering we’re both clean, are they necessary?”

“I would think not, then,” Gerard stated simply, and Frank bit his lip, striking the line in yellow just to be on the safe side.

“Consent: mutual agreement to the terms of a scene or ongoing BDSM relationship. Green. Consensual non-consensuality: a mutual agreement that within defined limits, consent will be given as read without foreknowledge of the exact actions planned. As such, it is a show of trust and understanding and usually undertaken only by partners who know each other well or otherwise agree to set clear safe limits on their activities. Green. Contract: a written-out agreement between the Dominant & submissive. It can be either formal or non, and is usually written after much negotiation by the Dominant and the sub, outlining what structure, guidelines, rules, and boundaries to the relationship are agreed upon by the two. It is not legally binding. Well, green, obviously.”

“An obvious one, I’m sure.” Gerard turned, pulling his laptop closer as he began writing out what looked like an email, “Carry on, boy. I’m right here, but this has to be out by the end of today.”

“Alright,” Frank looked at the contract again, biting his lip, “Control: the Dominant should have control in one form or another over his submissive in any D/s relationship. Green. Corporal Punishment: retributive punishment using repetitive spankings and question and reply to change a bottom’s behavior. Green, fuck. Corset: Very popular clothing item that cinches and narrows the waist and gives an 'hourglass' figure. Whoa, really? Me?”

“You in a corset sounds like a stunning idea in my books.” Gerard replied as he typed away on his laptop, his eyes still on the screen, “You’re not too bulky or muscular for it and it would definitely suit your figure.”

“Alright then, why not.” Frank smiled, blushing slightly, “Crop: a type of whip used in horseback riding, quite popular in BDSM scenes, it stings and can mark a butt severely, but is easy to master and quite reasonable in price. Hell yeah, markings on a budget. Cross Dressing: dressing in clothing worn by the opposite sex, does not indicate sexual preference in any way. Green. Crucifixion: BDSM play wherein a submissive is tied to a cross. Green. Cuffs leather and metal: a metal or leather bondage device that locks around a limb and can be used to immobilize the sub’s limbs. Green. Cupping: The placing of suction devices on the skin to increase blood flow. Typically these are used on the nipples and genitalia. Increasing the blood flow increase sensation as well. Don’t swimmers do this on their back or some shit?”

“It’s used for pain, inflammation, blood flow, relaxation, and well-being.” Gerard explained, “Quite the opposite reason as to why we use it, I might add.”

“I’ll say,” Frank chuckled, “Cutting: cutting the submissive’s skin with a sterile knife. Oh, God- These can be either temporary or permanent. Made permanent by putting a sterile foreign substance into them before they heal. Not for beginners. But definitely for this fucking guy.”

“Your blade-happiness worries me to an extent,” Gerard pursed his lips as he turned from his laptop, “Did you ever do that to yourself when you were younger?”

“What? Hurt myself?” Frank frowned and Gerard nodded, “Um- Well, I did try it when I was younger, like fourteen but… I don’t know it wasn’t really for me. I mean, yeah, I was sad as shit at the time but every time I did it, it was more hassle than anything else. I liked the pain but the consequences outweighed everything else and I just… Stopped.”

“Can I ask what was making you so sad?” Gerard turned completely away from his laptop in the chair, closing it slightly as a frown set in his brows, “If I may.”

“Well, I was being picked on at school and dealing a lot harder with my sexuality because I was trying to ignore the fact that I was gay. My grandad died around that time and I was still dealing with my parents wanting to split.”

  
“Did they split up?”

“They did when I was three,” Frank looked down, “I bore the brunt of it because I was the only kid. And they both took their fighting out on me. And when I hit high school they tried to patch things up but it only got worse. And after a while, my dad relocated to Denver for work and I stayed with my mom, and then she moved out there, too, after my grandad died. I lost contact with them when I left high school and moved in with Ryan.”

“Did they accept your sexuality?”

“Oh, Mom was all for having a gay son. Said she always had something to tell her lady friends about me and my antics.” Frank smiled slightly, “Dad was neither here nor there about it. He just didn’t want me pushing it in his face, really.”

“I see.” Gerard sounded pensive with his reply, “But you don’t still harm yourself, Frank?”

“Oh, no,” Frank shrugged, “Haven’t for about six years? Seven, maybe? Like I said, not my thing.”

“Not altogether true, though.” Gerard replied and Frank frowned in confusion, “Studies have shown that there’s a link between body modification and self-harm. Did you know this? Some people say cutting their skin brings them relief from emotional pain- an act usually referred to as self-harm. Others enjoy having their body pierced with metal and their skin inscribed with permanent ink. The self-harmers reported that they often had their skin tattooed or body pierced to help overcome a negative experience, or simply to experience physical pain. Another clue that self-harm and piercing/tattooing might, in some cases, be linked, derives from the fact that many of the self-harmers said they had ceased cutting themselves after obtaining their first piercing or tattoo. Did you get your first piercing when you stopped cutting at sixteen?”

“Wh…” Frank stared at Gerard in disbelief.

“It’s not an exact science but, the exact same hormones are released when being tattooed as is when cutting because it is essentially the same thing, so when the need is being met in another way, the cutting either ceases completely or slows down. So, instead of the self-harm being an addiction, piercing or tattooing does. Because body modifications have become so common and accessible, they are also used with probably increasing frequency as a convenient means to either realize psychopathological inclinations, such as self-injury, or to overcome psychological traumas.”

“I never…” Frank looked down at the tiniest white line that ran parallel to his elbow and up at Gerard again, “I never made the connection.”

“Well, most people get a tattoo if it means something but those with many tattoos that are almost random in a sense are those who get them frequently and those who are in trouble in their own head.” Gerard looked at Frank’s sleeve and back up again, “As you are.”

“I didn’t pick up on that at all. I-” Frank frowned, “How do you do that?”

“It’s my job and my personal choice to notice people, their behavior, and their traits, Frank. As both a political figure and a Dominant, I have to heighten my inclinations with people and the different types.”

“I just… Wow, I-” Frank swallowed, “I’m gonna, I need to just… Finish this before you’re all up in my head, Freud.”

“Feel free.” Gerard took a sip from his coffee as Frank leaned in to the pages, turning one over to the next side.

“Daddy: a role taken on by some dominants; especially common in age play. Red. Depilation: removal of hair, many Dominants require their submissive to shave certain areas, their whole body, or just their pubic hair. Yellow. Dildo: a manufactured penis-shaped object. Ha, green. Discipline: whipping, spanking, verbal orders, etc for the purpose of training a submissive. Green. Dittle Sound: A straight urethral sound. Uh, fuck no. DM: Dungeon Monitor, a person who supervises the interactions between participants at a play party or dungeons to enforce house rules, essentially, the bouncer of a BDSM event. They sometimes also play cruise director to keep/get the party going. Yellow, I guess?”

“Good choice.”

“Dog-Training: Role-play games involving treating the bottom as a dog- Fuck that. Dom: A person who exercises control. Another name for a Dominant. Hell yeah, you do. Green. Douche, Douching: injecting of a liquid, usually water, into the asshole or p-pussy- Whoa, language- Usually for hygiene purposes prior to sex or ass play. Jeez. No one is douching my asshole other than me. DP: Double penetration. Please and thanks. D/s or Dominance/submission: play or relationships that involve an erotic power exchange, a relationship between a Top and bottom where one is Dominant and the other submissive. Can be for a scene or can be a long-term relationship or anything in between. Also called Dom-sub, DS, D/S, D&S. Green, green and green.”

“Glad to see you’re enjoying that marker,” Gerard commented and Frank chuckled, biting the end of it.

“Duct Tape: also known as gaffer’s tape; used in many BDSM scenes such as taping the submissive’s mouth shut. Oh, God, I swear if you tape my mouth shut, there’s a chance I may come on the spot.”

“We’ll have to work on your endurance then, boy. Can’t have that.” Gerard commented coyly and Frank let out a low-pitched whine, squirming in his chair.

“Dungeon: dramatic term for a BDSM or Bondage playroom. Usually referring to a room or area with BDSM equipment and play space. Yes. Edgeplay: SM play that involves a chance of harm, either physically or emotionally. Because the definition of edgeplay is subjective to the specific players i.e., what is risky for me may not be as risky for you, there isn't a universal list of what is included in edgeplay. However, there are a few forms of play that almost always make the cut, including fireplay, gunplay, rough body play, breath play, and bloodplay. Yes to all.”

“Slow down, boy.” Gerard frowned, “You need to think about these things, remember?”

“I am, I am.” Frank muttered, “I just love the sound of them or the idea of them happening to me. I didn’t think I would but I do.”

“Just pace yourself. This is a marathon, not a sprint.”

“Yes, sir.” Frank replied softly before setting the contract down, “Sir?”

“Yes, boy?”

“Permission to stand up and walk around a bit? My ass is getting numb in this chair.” Frank wiggled slightly and he felt the static in his ass cheeks tingling uncomfortably, making him grimace.

“Granted. Good boy for asking. Well done.” Gerard nodded and Frank pushed the chair from the desk and got up, stretching his arms up before he went lax again. Gerard passed Frank the contract that he had put on a clipboard for him and Frank began walking idly around the office, reading aloud.

“Electro-Play: the practice of using electrical stimulation to the nerves of the body using a power source- such as a TENS, EMS, Violet wand, or made-for-play units- for purposes of sexual stimulation, body modification, tickling, or torture. Yes. Electrolysis: Permanent electric hair removal. Definitely not. Electro-torture: Another, more dramatic, term for electrical play. Green. Emasculation: Permanent removal of the male sex- sex organs?!” Frank looked up at Gerard in horror, the grim expression of his boss looking back told him it was true and he continued reading the definition, “Sometimes simulated through the use of a chastity device or through a dominants restrictions forbidding typical male behavior such a urinating while standing. Wait wait, ‘sometimes’ simulated? So, like, sometimes not? Oh, my God, what the fuck.”

“It happens.” Was Gerard’s only reply and Frank felt the instant urge to shut his legs.

“Endorphin: A chemical produced in the body that seems to be involved in regulating the perception of pain, endorphins give a ‘rush’ similar to adrenaline- which is released simultaneously- and it is speculated that their release is the cause of the phenomenon known as ‘subspace’. Subspace?”

“It’ll come up later, go on.”

“Well, green either way.” Frank lined the word, “Enema- Oof- thorough anal douche using a bag and tube. No way in hell. Enema Play: using the enema as a BDSM device in play. I think not. Enforced Chastity: chastity play where the Dom controls a sub’s sexual frequency and ability to experience sexual pleasure, usually with a chastity belt or other chastity device. Yes. Erotic dancing? Sure.”

“I can’t wait for that,” Gerard snickered from behind his laptop and Frank’s cheeks went a degree or so warmer, a frown in his brows.

“Erotic sexual denial. Sí. Erotic spanking. Bueno. Examinations: physical inspections and submissive maintenance. Oui. Exercising: forced or required- Wh- Exercising?” Frank turned and looked at Gerard, “You’re gonna make me exercise? Isn’t it enough that you’re nailing things through my scrotum and lathering me in your come-conditioner? Now you want me to run?”

“You have to keep fit or else it’ll be too much for your body to handle. And no one said running. Just fitness.” Gerard smiled reassuringly, “We can find something for you.”

“Only fitness I wanna do is fitness whole dick in my mouth.” Frank muttered, scowling unhappily as he carried on, hearing Gerard snicker at his dry humor, “Extreme Restraints: a Bondage device that is very strict or terribly confining, usually not something used on a beginner. Green- or- or yellow?”

“Yellow, on the safe side,” Gerard commented and Frank nodded, obeying Gerard’s suggestion.

“Eye contact restrictions, nothing new. Face Fucking: another term for a ‘blowjob’. And count me the fuck in.” Frank grinned, “Face slapping. God, yes. Fainting: a temporary loss of consciousness caused by lack of oxygen to the brain, can happen during extreme BDSM play such as breath control, long pain sessions, etc, which can be dangerous when caused by breath control play. Yellow. Fantasy abandonment? Red. Fear: being scared. Green. Felching: imbibing semen out of the vagina or anus."

That was the moment when Frank stopped his pacing, a high-pitched squeak left him at the latest word on the list, a childish part of him wanted to piss himself laughing but he knew, the adult part of him knew that it wasn’t that funny in the long run. It was when he saw Gerard’s concerned expression that he cracked and began cackling with laughter, pointing at the word ‘felching’ in the contract as his stomach ached and his cheeks cramped up, the younger male doubled over in stitches.

“Frank, control yourself. This is a work environment.” Gerard scolded, frowning at Frank, who stuck his fist in his mouth, setting the contract down as he tried his best to calm himself down but once he caught sight of the line striped in green and began giggling again.

“I-I- Oh, God, I’m gonna vomit,” He managed, cackling all over as he pressed himself up against the wall, trying to stifle his laughter in his hands.

“Frank.” Gerard’s voice rose in volume and in warning, his eyebrow lifting somewhat as Frank looked at him, suddenly feeling the intensity radiating off of his boss, making him shy away suddenly and look down.

“Sorry, sir.”

“People are trying to work. You need to learn self-control at appropriate times.” Gerard’s voice laced with disapproval and Frank winced slightly at being reprimanded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep on with your list,” Gerard ordered simply as he continued working. Frank took a hold of his clipboard and slid down the wall, folding his legs as he looked at it, biting his lip.

“Fellatio: giving head, a blow-job, going down on someone, being face fucked, the act of sucking or licking a penis, or having a penis inserted in the mouth. Yes. Fetish, Fetishism: an unusual obsession with something. Like a leather fetish, latex fetish or a shoe fetish, fetishes are only limited by the human imagination. Yes. Fetish Attire: clothes that reflect the wearer’s particular fetish, such as leather, latex, rubber, or high heels. Yes.”

“Frank?”

“Yes, sir?” Frank looked up solemnly at his boss who was peering back over the top of his laptop at his assistant on the floor.

“Do me a favor, boy.”

“Anything, sir.” Frank set the clipboard down.

“Come sit here, please.” Gerard patted the empty desk chair and Frank got up, taking the markers with him before he walked over and sat himself back in his spot on the right of Gerard, “Do you understand why you were expostulated, boy? Why I had to discipline you verbally?”

“I was being inappropriate, sir.” Frank looked down at his hands.

“And?”

“And I won’t… Won’t do it again?” Frank offered up uneasily, looking up at Gerard, waiting to see if he had gotten it right.

“Good boy.” Gerard gave him a small but reassuring leg squeeze, “Very good.”

“Thank you, sir.” Frank nodded, “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Should I keep going?”

“Please.”

“Fig- Figging? Is this what you told me to look out for?” Frank frowned, instantly seeing the expression of total smugness on Gerard’s face, complete and utter gratification in its purest form.

“You said ‘spicy’.” Was Gerard’s only comment as he continued typing away.

“Figging: The practice of inserting a piece of gin- ginger root?! ...into the anus or vagina. Inserting a piece of fresh, skinless ginger into the rectum which causes a hot burning sensation without any lasting damage. Wh- This is a thing? Who the fuck thought of this and how did they find out? I mean- I- Just…”

“Think about that next time you steal my ginger tea without asking, boy.”

Frank pursed his lips in annoyance at his boss, ‘hmph’-ing softly as he decided on whether or not he wanted ginger in his asshole, deciding on striking it through with yellow to be safe before he continued, “Fire play: using fire as an implement of BDSM. This can mean blowing the heat of a light torch onto a bottom- Oh, God- lighting pools of fuel on the bottom's skin, lighting flash cotton on the bottom, and other creative uses of heat. Yes- I- Maybe. Maybe. Fisting: inserting a hand into the vagina or rectum. Maybe. Flagellation: BDSM-related whipping, beating, and spanking for erotic stimulation. Yes. Green. Flogger: a multi-tailed leather implement. Sounds heavenly. Flogging: using a ‘flogger’ on a submissive. Please do.”

“Next time you have an outburst like that, I just might,” Gerard muttered softly and Frank felt his heart jump at the very idea, his skin tingling slightly under his clothes.

“Um…” Frank fought for concentration, “Foley Catheter: a type of catheter that can be inflated with sterile water. No Bueno. Following orders. Yes. Foot Worship: a foot fetish where the submissive worships the Dominant's feet, usually in high heel shoes or boots. Definitely. Forced masturbation. Oh, yes. Forced nudity. Totally. Forced servitude. Can do. Freeplay: BDSM play where there is no Domination or submission. For sure.”

“Good.” Gerard smiled, “Sometimes a break is good for you.”

“Frenum: Piercing the surface of the penis shaft- Hey, that’s what I have.” Frank grinned as he striped the word in green, “That’s awesome. Gaffer’s Tape: duct tape. You don’t say? Green. Gags: a gag is a device worn in or on the mouth to prevent the wearer from speaking or for muffling sounds. Green. Gauge: a system of grading the thickness, the lower the number, the thicker the wire or material. Green, I guess? Genitorture: torture of the genitals. There’s that word again. But, yes. Good pain: ‘good pain’ is pain that is mutually agreed, desired or permitted by the submissive partner to be experienced, and seen by them as of enjoyment or value, sensations that non-practitioners imagine to be painful are instead perceived and described by BDSM practitioners as pleasurable or a good form of pain... In much the way that muscles after a workout at the gym may be sore, but in a good way. The transition of perception from ‘bad pain’ to ‘good pain’ may require a warm-up beforehand. I’m still in for that.”

“It does sometimes require the submissive to be given examples of the two to understand the difference.” Gerard began, “No, I’m not going to break your leg, but a demonstration helps the body figure out which is which after a while.”

“I’m okay with that.” Frank answered earnestly, smiling as Gerard gave him an appraising touch to the leg yet again, “Golden showers- Ah, yes. Yes, please. Gorean: a subgenre based upon the rituals and practices created within the world of Gor in the erotic novels by John Norman. Gorean culture is based on stereotypical gender-based roles which are considered by many to be in conflict with BDSM, where there is freedom for either gender to act in any role. What?”

“Ah,” Gerard turned from his work to look at Frank, “It’s somewhat like our lifestyle but there are many differences, too. It was created based on a set of books. The differences are mainly to do with gender roles and a lot of people don’t find it as fair as BDSM is.”

“Example?”

“An example would be that in Gor, it is not Master and sub, it is Master and kajira, and the kajira is always a woman. In Gor, the kajira owns nothing of their property whereas in BDSM the submissive is likely to own or at least co-own. In Gor, there are no safewords or signals, merely trust, unlike BDSM. Gor is based, also, upon nature.”

“How so?”

“Nature is paramount to their lifestyle. Paramount. One must live in cooperation with nature and not harm the earth or natural resources. But in Bondage, it can be merely considered and negotiated, but not necessary.” Gerard explained, “There is also no consent, not a consideration. True slaves, or kajira, are expected to want nothing but to please Master. Whereas in our lifestyle it is one of the core and paramount details. Casual at first, followed by SSC- Safe, Sane, Consensual-, which may develop into RACK- Risk Aware Consensual Kink- and then Edge-Slave training.”

“Those last bits…” Frank asked and Gerard chuckled.

He assured warmly, “You’ll get there.”

“You swear?” Frank asked, looking up at Gerard at a slightly sideways angle, biting nervously on his lip as Gerard leaned in.

“I’ll make sure of it, boy. Trust your Master.”


	35. It's Not So Bad When You Get Used to It

"Is that really the time?" Frank asked when he glanced down at Gerard's silver watch and saw that it was nearly six in the evening. He should have noticed by the fact that it was starting to get dark outside, but he hadn't been paying attention to anything else other than the extensive contract. Frank set the marker on the desk, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to stop them from feeling so dry and tired, and stifled a yawn, "I didn't realize that I'd been here all afternoon since we got back."  
  
"We didn't get back until a little later than planned," Gerard reminded Frank of their slightly extended lunch break, not taking his eyes away from the computer while he typed, "Plus, you have been rather preoccupied, you dirty boy."  
  
"The contract is important," Frank added primly.

"The contract wasn't to what I was referring, dear boy. I was merely mentioning the sordid state of your mouth that lead up to you doing your contract." Gerard whispered, "When one mentions they have a persuasive mouth, you usually think they have a charm and wit..."

"Don't I have a charm and wit?" Frank asked coyly, batting his eyelids at Gerard, who turned to look at Frank with his eyes narrowed. He reached out, clamping his hand around Frank's jaw in a stern hold, bring his face in until they were inches apart.

"You have an entrancing charm and copacetic wit, runt." Gerard whispered, "But I was talking about how perfectly it fits around me and how pretty you look when you choke on it."

"I-" Frank shuddered a shaky breath, staring into Gerard's unwavering and incomparable gaze as an ache set in his jaw that felt so similar to the ache he had felt only a few hours before. Gerard let go, stroking a finger over where he had been holding, and went back to typing an email. The skin where he had brushed with his knuckle seemed to tingle and Frank's entire body had taken a moment to reboot after crashing like an old computer. He inhaled, looking down at the contract and book in front of him. It was all he had done since they got back, he had decided to reread what he had agreed to, wanting to refresh himself after lunch, "I just feel bad. I haven't exactly done any work today."

"Don't worry about it," Gerard brushed off Frank's comment quickly, "I told Derek that I was training you some more so he's been filling in for you."  
  
"Is that what we are calling this now, huh?" Frank raised an eyebrow at Gerard, eyeing him up, placing one hand on top of the contract, "My 'training'?"  
  
"Well, it is, isn't it?" Gerard responded rather bluntly, looking at Frank like it should have been obvious, "I wasn't lying when I told Derek that I was going to be training you."  
  
"You just bent the truth," Frank smiled cockily, leaning back in his chair, clinking his tongue bar against his teeth, "I get it. No one will ever know what happened behind your closed door."  
  
"Good," Gerard nodded. He took a moment away from what he was doing, looking over his work while he ran his hands through his hair, scratching at the back of his head, "But, I think that is enough for today. You have done well, boy, I'm impressed. Covered more than I expected."  
  
"Yeah, me too," Frank nodded, thumbing through the lengthy contract, letting the pages he was holding fall back down onto the pile that he was still going to have to go through, "I take it, I'm finishing this off tomorrow?"  
  
"Probably a good idea. You don't want to overwhelm yourself in one sitting," Gerard agreed whilst shutting down his email before switching off his computer, "Plus, I would like to go home."  
  
"Yeah," Frank tried to sound enthused about the idea of going home, but to him, home meant going back to his crummy motel room. Gerard started packing away his things while Frank just sat there, hating the idea of going home. The shame crept down Frank's spine almost immediately while he remained seated in his chair, "Should probably go home, too..."  
  
"I figured your lateness this morning was because of car trouble," Gerard commented while he stood up, buttoning up his jacket before pocketing his phone. The beat-up and dirty off-white ride that was Frank's car was not in its designated space this morning. Frank had just nodded, ignoring the fact that he hadn't been able to get his car to start this morning. His car was still in the motel parking lot after having been kicked by Frank when he got out of it that morning, cursing it and its ancestors because it refused to start. He that he wouldn't be able to pay to get his car fixed because he had just paid the rent on his room. A roof over his head was more important, plus he knew that he could probably do with the exercise as he walked to work for two-and-a-half hours from South Hackensack to Woodcliff. He didn't have much of a choice and couldn't really afford a cab in the morning traffic. Gerard turned to look at him, "Did you walk to the office?"  
  
"Yeah, I did," Frank nodded, finally standing up. He pulled his suit jacket from the back of the chair put it on while he continued to talk, avoiding eye contact, "She wouldn't start at all but she can be a bit temperamental in the cold."  
  
"What about tomorrow?"

"I don't know," Frank sighed, knowing that even if he did know why his car hadn't wanted to start this morning, it wasn't like he was going to be able to afford it. God knows when he was going to be able to pay for his car to be fixed, "I'll get it fixed."  
  
Not that Frank knew when he was going to be able to do that; it was probably going to be a few months before he would be able to get his car back on the road- Maybe even longer. He didn't know and despite the fact that he hated the motel he was living in, he knew that he had to pay for that first because he didn't want to live in his broken-down car.

"Good," Gerard spoke, nodding at Frank's reply, "So, were you planning on walking back as well?"  
  
"No," Frank admitted as he took note of how dark it was getting outside, and because he valued not getting mugged or stabbed, he grabbed his phone from his pocket, "I was going to get an Uber or something, sir."  
  
"You do know that I could drive you home," Gerard told Frank who had opened the app and was waiting for the device to pick up his location.  
  
"You don't have to do that, sir," Frank bit his lip, glancing over at Gerard, who was packing his stuff into his briefcase.  
  
"I am more than happy to take you home," Gerard insisted, "Plus, as your Master, and a gentleman, I will not take 'no' for an answer."  
  
"But-"  
  
"No 'but's," Gerard piped up, cutting Frank off, "You really must learn that arguing will get you nowhere other than across my lap and on the receiving end of a spanking."  
  
Frank shrank back and held back a whimper at the idea of Gerard doing that to him, his ass clenching at the mere thought of Gerard putting him across his lap and spanking him- Frank didn't even know how to respond. Did he want to continue arguing because the idea had such an effect on him that he was at a point of wanting it to happen, or should he just give in?   
  
"You're considering it, aren't you?" Gerard queried, making Frank wonder how in the hell his Master was able to read him so well. Maybe the pink tinge that had spread across Frank's cheeks was a give away.  
  
"No, I'm not," He lied, unable to look at Gerard as he locked his phone before pocketing it. As much as he didn't want Gerard knowing where he was living, he knew that he couldn't keep arguing with him. As much as the idea of being spanked seemed very interesting and something that Frank knew he shouldn't argue. He ran his tongue-bar over his lip, "I was taking you up on your offer of driving me home, sir."

Reluctantly, Frank wondered if he could get away with telling Gerard that he lived somewhere not too far away from the motel in an attempt to save some dignity. Then when Gerard was out of sight he could just walk the rest of the way home, hoping not to get stabbed or robbed. It seemed like a perfect plan, even if lying to Gerard seemed like the worst idea imaginable. Frank was ashamed enough already without having more shame piled on top of him about Gerard's irreverent disdain over his current abode.

"Good boy," Gerard smiled and leaned in, putting an arm around Frank to pull him closer. Frank yelped lightly at the sudden touch, melting into Gerard's warm chest when a small kiss was pressed to the side of his temple. Frank blushed lightly when he heard his Master inhale lightly, taking in his scent. He pulled away and looked up, a sheepish smile on his face.

"You like how I smell?"

"I do." Gerard commented as he returned to his desk, "It's an interesting combination of smells that seems so intrinsically you, boy."

"And that is?" Frank asked as he curiously sniffed the lapel of his blazer.

"Your usual cologne has a spicy cinnamon note to it that I enjoy. It suits you. And your shampoo is apple. All of that is incomparable to how you smell, however. Just you. I must admit that I enjoyed holding you when we were together. It's calming." Gerard stated as he picked up the contract, making sure it was all in order before he placed it in his bag. He looked up to see Frank's startled expression, "Are you okay?"

"You..." Frank whispered, "You like my smell?"

"Is that not what I just said?" Gerard put his hands on his hips, "Has no one ever complimented how you smell before?"

"Well, no." Frank's nose scrunched up, "Ryan told me once that he liked the floor cleaner I chose because it smelled like oranges. That's about it."

"Absolutely shameful." Gerard tutted softly, "Especially when you smell as wonderful as you do. You should do to get the rest of your belongings in order, boy."

"I'll just grab my bag from my desk, then."

"Please do," Gerard said, following Frank out of the office, both of them noticing how they were the last in the building, "Meet me by my car. I'll be out in a second when I've made sure everything is in order before we go."

Frank did as he was told, slinging his satchel over his shoulder before leaving the building. He walked to the lot around the back of the building, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat when he got to Gerard's car, waiting for him to turn up. He wrapped his black scarf tighter around his neck when he felt a chill infiltrate his layers, the sharp whip of evening air had him hiss and his shoulders hunch. He looked over the car that was currently in Gerard's space; the black Mercedes that made Frank jealous because he knew that he would never be able to afford to drive anything like that. He couldn't even afford to drive his own ancient Golf, but at least he was getting driven home, even if he did wish that it was someone else.

Frank thought about how he could get around telling Gerard where he lived. He just hated the fact that Gerard was going to see where he was living, especially now that Frank knew what his house looked like. The feeling of reproach spiked into his esophagus when Gerard appeared a few minutes later, briefcase in hand and walking with the confident grace of a man who knew his own power. It was astounding to watch him stride across the asphalt as though floating across water.

"Remember what I said to you about doors, boy?" Gerard queried simply, watching as Frank jumped when he realized what he had to do. Frank scurried to the driver's door, opening it when it was unlocked by the key in Gerard's hand. He bowed his head, holding it open for Gerard while he got in, "And I also decide where you sit in the car, too. So if you wouldn't mind, I would prefer it if you sat next to me tonight."

Frank thanked Gerard, maybe wishing that he could have sat in the back so he could hide the embarrassment that was going to creep over him in about twenty minutes. He nodded, closing the driver's door before going around the car to get in, dumping his bag into the footwell before clipping in his seatbelt.

"So, where am I driving?" Gerard queried as he started up the car. Frank felt his mouth go dry at the question, the idea of telling Gerard exactly where to take him was daunting. He sat in the passenger seat, his hands in his lap, trying to think of anything to say that wouldn't reveal where Gerard was going until it was almost over.

"I'll give you directions," Frank told him as he tried to calm his heart rate, "Is that okay, sir?"  
  
"Not a problem," Gerard muttered as they reversed out of the parking space, "As long as we get there eventually."

"We will," Frank sighed, "Turn right at these lights onto Bergentine, and then when we get to the end of James J Braddock park, take the left turn onto... Is it Fairview?"

"Woodcliff turns into Fairview, yes," Gerard added as they turned right. They sat in relative silence, the only time Frank spoke was when he guided Gerard, telling him which road to turn down, bringing him closer and closer to the motel. He looked out of the window on the left when they passed Fairview Cemetery and tried not to let himself worry about Gerard's reaction. His thoughts were slowly fading onto other topics and he was curious about how Gerard had reacted in the office earlier when he said the one thing that he had marked in red.

Frank knew he had only said the word to get a reaction from Gerard, gauge exactly how he would be if Frank suddenly said it without warning, but he barely got anything. No telling off for saying it, no look of disgust because he knew it was a hard limit for Gerard. He just brushed it off like it was nothing, stating that he didn't like it anymore. That had Frank sitting in the passenger seat of the car, looking at Gerard in the corner of his eye, rolling the ball of his tongue piercing against his teeth while he wondered if he could question it.

"Turn right up ahead onto Broad," Frank started, looking at Gerard who replied with a small hum of recognition as they turned right onto the highway, "Sir? Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Of course you can, boy," Gerard told him, glancing over at Frank for a second before his eyes were back on the road, "Do you have another question about the contract?"  
  
"Kind of," Fran trailed off. He wanted to understand why Gerard had this as a hard limit. What if Frank had swiped the green marker over everything that came along with the word 'Daddy'? What if Gerard had still said 'no' to all of it? He cleared his throat as he looked out at the motorcycle shop on the right, his hands nervously fidgeting with a button on his jacket, "I know why the whole 'Daddy' thing is a hard limit for me, but why is it such a hard limit for you?"  
  
Frank swore that he could see Gerard's grip on the steering wheel tighten when he asked his question. It was jarring to see his body react when his face remained calm and unaffected. He let out the smallest sigh as they stopped at the intersection of Broad and Shaler.

"Was me saying that I don't like it not enough for you, boy?" Gerard asked curiously, his voice had a hardened edge to it that had Frank wary.

"But you said that you don't like it _anymore_ ," Frank pointed out, "Did you like it at one point, sir?"  
  
Gerard sighed again as they turned off of Broad onto Grand Avenue and continued straight. Frank watched Gerard in the rapidly shifting light from the street lamps that they continued to pass. Gerard ran a hand through his hair before he held the wheel, mulling over his words for a long moment of silence.

"Left onto the R-46," Frank whispered

"I did," Gerard finally spoke as they turned, crossing the Overpeck Creek bridge, "I never thought I would. I'm not the type to be someone's carer when it comes to this kind of thing, but Billie..." Gerard stopped himself, pausing for a moment. Frank felt like he was on the edge of his seat, hanging onto Gerard's words, "Billie Joe was a little. You do know what I mean by that, don't you, boy?"

"A little," Gerard carried on when Frank hadn't nodded at his question, "A 'little' is the most common term for the submissive's role in an ageplay relationship. A little is known as the role of the child that the Daddy has to look after. Their ages can vary from person to person, but usually, they're around the baby or toddler age group. Some can go up to the age of about eight, but they rarely don't tend to go that high. The most common ages are around one to four years old... And that was what Billie was. I was Billie's Daddy and I tried to make it work, but we had chemistry issues. It wasn't working and I wasn't comfortable with it all. That's why it's a hard limit for me."

Frank was speechless; he just assumed that Gerard would give him some well-worded explanation as to why he didn't like it and why it was a hard limit for him but he never expected Gerard to come out with an answer as personal as that. Frank just looked at Gerard, trying to see the whole 'Daddy' side, but he couldn't find it. He couldn't picture Gerard looking after a grown-up child; he just didn't seem like the kind of person who would be able to do that. Frank cleared his throat, ignoring the warmth in his cheeks, "I'm honestly grateful that you're not into it but, just..."

"Just?"

"Why did you tell me if it was something so personal to you?" Frank frowned, watching Gerard before telling him to keep straight on Sylvan Avenue. He glanced at his master anxiously, "I knew that I overstepped a line in the restaurant but, I just thought it grossed you out. I didn't realize it was personal."

"Well, I realized that I got to know a lot about you today," Gerard responded with a small purse to his lips, "It is only fair. I know a lot about you. Now you know something about me."

Frank wanted to say something about how he appreciated Gerard opening up to him and being honest with him about something that they both agreed was a hard limit. Frank didn't say anything when he realized that they were less than a minute away from the motel. He had completely pushed aside the fact that Gerard was driving him towards the most shameful place known to man; or at least known to him. He wished that he could just get Gerard to drop him off at the Burger King on their right, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It would have been weird if just told Gerard to stop around the corner from the only motel in the middle of a very industrial-and-hardware-retail area. Frank knew that he was just going to have to suck up the shame and embarrassment that was swirling around in his stomach.

"Uh, turn right here on Huyler," Frank whispered softly as they came to stop at the intersection.

"Never expected you to live in this area," Gerard commented casually. His words made Frank want to sink in his seat, cover up his face, and hide the fact that he did in fact live in this part of town.

"Me neither," Frank muttered under his breath as Gerard took the turning he had told him to take, pulling into the parking lot of the Travelodge. Frank tried to gauge Gerard's reaction as he slowed the car down and slipped into a vacant spot. He was practically unreadable, and Frank felt his face and ears heat up as though he were standing too close to a fire. He tried to hide the shame, cracking a fake smile as he looked out at the stretch of building that was now technically his home, "Well, here we are then..."  
  
"This is where you live?" Gerard asked, turning the key in the ignition, the car falling silent which added to the tension that Frank was feeling while he watched Gerard look out at the motel. He nodded, unable to answer as he reached down into the footwell to grab his bag. Frank wondered why Gerard couldn't take his eyes off the place; it wasn't like it was five-star accommodation that Frank could brag about. Gerard's expression was akin to that of a man who had just walked into a 7-Eleven bathroom. Frank tried to ignore his expression while he unclipped his seat belt, reaching out to open his door.

"I guess I will see you the usual time tomorrow, sir?" Frank asked, hoping that he could just get out of this situation as quickly as possible. God knows what Gerard was going to say to him about the motel that was situated between an awning store and an electrical supply chain. He probably had a list longer than his contract that was filled with his opinion on the terracotta-brick building, but he still remained silent.

Frank got out of the car when Gerard hadn't responded to him, clearly speechless like the time Frank had turned up in Ryan's God-awful clothes. It felt very similar to that moment when Frank stood in front of him again. Seconds later, the driver's door opened and Gerard climbed out, closing the door behind him to stand and stare up at the two-floor motel.

"What are you doing, sir?" Frank asked nervously. He couldn't help but notice how Gerard stuck out like a sore thumb in this area; a well-dressed man in a run-down motel parking lot.

"I never took you as the kind of person who would live in a wonderful place like this..." Gerard taunted lightly, the sarcasm cutting through Frank like a sharpened blade. He groaned, hanging his head in shame as he put his bag over his shoulder. Gerard put his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat, "I'm curious to see just what your living arrangements are like before I judge the external appearance of this motel."

 _Please no_ , Frank thought, _for the love of David Duchovny, please stop_. He hated the fact that Gerard was showing such an interest now. He politely asked Frank to lead the way, walking behind him. It felt like a walk of shame for Frank, who kept his head hung low as they crossed the carpark toward his side of the L-shaped building. They went up the rusted outdoor stairs to get to his place and Frank felt so uneasy and agitated about the fact that Gerard was right behind him. Frank pulled his keys out of his bag, coming to a stop in front of his room.

"This is only temporary," Frank reassured Gerard almost immediately, trying to justify why he was here to his boss- his Master. The title made this moment so much worse as he struggled with the lock. He scowled, shouldering the door open when it stuck. He huffed and gave Gerard one last fleeting glance, "I'm only here until I get back on my feet."

Frank held the door open for Gerard, screwing his eyes shut when he felt him brush past, stepping into his not-so-new home. Frank didn't want to open his eyes; he didn't even want to consider the fact that Gerard was in the shitty little motel room that had definitely seen better days. Frank did open his eyes after a second of cringing because he couldn't bear the idea of hiding away while Gerard inspected, scrutinized, and judged his place. His opinion on the motel room, and Frank's decision to live here, was something that worried Frank.

He finally stepped into his room, watching Gerard carefully as he scanned around at the small one-room living area that Frank now had. Gerard stood at the foot of the bed and looked around. He took a quick step toward the bathroom, switching the light on before he ducked his head in to see what it was like. Frank just stood near the open door, fiddling with his hands to help calm himself down instead of projectile vomiting all over his genuine leather shoes.

And the worst thing was that he had forgotten to make his bed this morning. He was living in such shabby conditions already and Frank had given up on neatening his bedding once he got up every morning. Frank blushed at Gerard seeing his unmade bed, even though there was definitely more concerning things about the room that Gerard was focusing on.

"It's not so bad when you get used to it. Even the smell isn't too bad when you're in it for a while." Frank offered, hoping to alleviate some of the tension that had surrounded him the moment Gerard set foot into his room. Frank felt like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, let him get away from this humiliating moment in time where Gerard looked down on everything that Frank had to keep himself going. The microwave sat on top of the fridge. The outdated TV, which didn't work, though Frank had been told that it would be fixed by the end of the week if he was lucky. The carpet, from which Gerard cautiously lifted his shoe up, noticing how it was a little on the sticky side. This was the roof over Frank's head, this was all he had right now and Frank didn't even want to be here to see Gerard judge it all and question why the wallpaper was peeling away from the ceiling.

Gerard didn't say a word and he hadn't said a word since he had set foot into the yellowed room. All he had done was look around, cautiously stepping into the bathroom for a second. He looked around before he reached up to take down the suitcase from on top of the wardrobe- an easy feat for the man who was almost six foot and made Frank envious when he had struggled to get it up there in the first place- and set it down on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Frank frowned, completely baffled as he watched Gerard grab clothes from the wardrobe to swiftly pack them in the suitcase. Gerard was about to answer his question, opening his mouth, when he stopped.

"What is this?" Gerard asked curiously after finding the dildo and peach lube hidden behind his underwear. Frank's eyes went wide and he felt his whole body freeze when Gerard pulled the two items out of their hiding place, holding them up. Frank stared at the dildo and at Gerard, who was reading the label on the bottle with vague interest. Frank opened his mouth to answer, but an answer wasn't what came out. An embarrassed squark left him before his hands went up to his face to hide the hot blush that spread across it immediately. Frank didn't know what to say. The obvious and grown-up thing to say was that he owned a sex toy, but to have Gerard find it and hold it out while he inspected it, Frank couldn't bring himself to say anything other than,

"Oh, God," He whimpered, his voice shaking as he came to a stop by his bed, collapsing forward onto it in an attempt to hide himself from the humiliating moment. He was bent over with his face stuffed into the comforter, groaning unhappily, "Oh, God. Oh, God, Oh, fuck-"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure you say that a lot while you're using it," Gerard commented, making Frank want to curl up into the tightest ball possible on his bed. Gerard was highly amused as he inspected the dildo with a look of wonder on his face, observing the length and girth of the sex toy, "But this... I really wasn't expecting to find."

"It's not what it looks like," Frank whined as he peered out with one eye at his Master, who now had a permanent smirk on his face.

"Oh, I think it is," Gerard eyed Frank who had peeked out from the folds of his bedding, still in a state of embarrassing panic, "This is exactly what it looks like. I just didn't expect you to own one that was so life-like."

"It's just Felix," Frank muttered into the blanket, hoping that Gerard wouldn't hear his short explanation but Gerard chuckled in response. Frank picked himself up from the folds of his unmade bed and brushed down his work clothes, clearing his throat, "It's nothing. So what?" Frank tried to play it off cool as he took the dildo out of his Master's hands before dropping it into the suitcase, "It's just a dildo."

"You really are full of surprises," Gerard shook his head slightly before he continued, "Never ceases to amaze me."

"What exactly are you doing?" Frank asked again, seeing as they had been interrupted by the discovery of the dildo and lube. He watched Gerard, looking at the pile of his clothes that were starting to build up in his suitcase.

"It is the norm for a sub to live with his Master," Gerard began to explain as he picked up Frank's sneakers cautiously, the beaten old pair of shoes being held between his thumb and forefinger before he dropped them into the suitcase, "So, the Dom has complete control over their submissive. I wasn't going to start it until you had finished your contract, but with the state of your living arrangements, there is no way I can let you live here for a moment longer."

"It's not that bad." Frank reminded him weakly. Gerard merely scoffed at Frank's weak attempt to defend his living quarters.

"Really?" Gerard snorted, dropping t-shirts into the suitcase, "I've seen derelict properties in better conditions than this. You cannot continue living here. You are coming home with me and I'm going to disinfect you at least three times. Who knows what else has been breeding in those sheets other than yourself and Felix."

"Wh- I-" Frank's entire face lit up for the thousandth time as Gerard went to the wardrobe to grab more clothing, "But I haven't finished my contract."

"You can finish it tonight," Gerard told him, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment to grab the last of Frank's things before he put them into the suitcase. He looked at Frank once he had zipped it closed, "Don't look so guilty, Frank. Once you've settled in, you can carry on from where you left off."

"Okay." Frank nodded uneasily, hoping that he wasn't making Gerard have to go out of his way because of himself. He felt bad, but Gerard seemed more than adamant that he was leaving this motel tonight. There was no way he was staying another night in this place and Gerard was sure of it.

"Take your bag, boy," Gerard instructed, heading towards the door as he grabbed Frank's room key, "I will see you down by the car. Just going to tell the owner that you will no longer be rooming in this dysentery factory.."

Frank did as he was told, lugging his suitcase out of the room and down the stairs. He dragged it over to the car with a grunt and a huff. He waited, leaning against the side of the car with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Gerard was only gone a few minutes but he was gone long enough for Frank to come to terms with the fact that this was happening. The fact that the contract wasn't finished didn't matter; right now he was moving in with Gerard and he was okay with it. They were both okay with it. No one was freaking out or backing out and Frank couldn't ignore the butterflies in his gut.

He felt a little overwhelmed, of course, but Frank snapped out of it when he saw Gerard walking towards him in that same bold traipse that had his insides melt. How could someone _walking_ have such an effect on him? Probably because he wasn't just his boss anymore, once it hit midnight; he would be Frank's Dominant. That thought alone made Frank's insides go through the same twisting sensation that he had been feeling ever since he first started crushing on him.

"All sorted," Gerard said quickly, walking to the back of his car to open up the trunk. He picked up Frank's suitcase for him, putting it into the compartment. Frank knew what he had to do and he moved around the car, he opened up the driver's door, waiting patiently for Gerard to get in, "You're getting the hang of this, boy. Front seat again, please."

Frank thanked Gerard before shutting the door, He jogged around the sleek vehicle and slid back into his seat, fastening his seatbelt as Gerard started the engine, pulling out of the parking space. Frank noticed his car, wondering what was going to happen to it, seeing as Gerard was driving him back to his house.

Frank remained quiet in his seat, staying quiet for most of the journey back to Gerard's, looking over at him occasionally, letting it sink in. He was still reeling over it all, over the one person he would submit to and worship the ground he walked on like some God; the only person for whom he had eyes.

The journey back remained quiet. Gerard spoke occasionally, Frank answered him, but for the rest of the journey to his house, Frank remained silent. A strange, yet probably completely normal, set of emotions for what he was getting involved in. The roads eventually became familiar and soon Gerard was pulling his car into his driveway. Frank sat back in his seat, taking in the house again, finding it hard to believe that this was where he was going to be living. It certainly beat the shitty motel by a country-mile. Gerard pulled his car into the carport, switching off the engine before turning to look at Frank.

"Well, here we are," Gerard mimicked what Frank had said earlier, getting out of the car. Frank followed, grabbing his suitcase out of the trunk. He trailed not far behind, trying to keep up with him as he tugged his suitcase along. Gerard opened the front door, walking into the house. Frank supervened, watching him kick his shoes off before pushing them to the side of the entranceway, "The first rule that you must follow: no shoes in the house. That is, unless you want Lindsey scolding you for ruining her carpets." Frank chuckled at that before he saw the look on Gerard's face.

"Oh, you think I'm joking?" Gerard shot back, making Frank's smile dissipate rapidly, "She will not hesitate to beat you with a newspaper if she sees you traipsing dirty footprints across her carpet. Trust me, I know."

Frank fought back a smile, trying to picture how someone like Lindsey could tell off someone like Gerard. Clearly, it was possible and Frank had been witness to her dragging him out of the kitchen by his ear the morning after they had slept together. Gerard may have been in charge of him, but he could tell that Lindsey definitely had some charge over Gerard when it came to matters of the house.

"Follow me," Gerard waved a hand at Frank once he had also removed his shoes, pushing them to one side. Frank did as he was told, bringing his suitcase along as they started up the stairs, "Let me show you where you will be staying, pup."


	36. A Crown was the One Thing I Didn't Get

It was when they reached the door to what Frank assumed to be Gerard’s bedroom that he realized what his new Master was implying. Frank froze, eyes widened at the prospect of sharing a bedroom with someone so early, so soon, sleeping next to someone and being so vulnerable yet again. Frank had barely adjusted to sleeping by himself after all that time and now he was being crammed into his boss’ bed. Granted, he knew that he wanted nothing less than that, he wanted to all-but-dive into Gerard’s sheets, but he hadn’t expected it to be so quick. He had expected the blowjob, yes. But everything that had happened up until this point wasn’t even expected in his wildest dreams. But here he was, bags and all, and it was snowballing out of his own hands and right into Gerard’s awaiting palms.

“I, uh…” Frank piped up as Gerard put a hand on the doorknob, “Wait.”

“What is it, boy?”

“I just…” Frank squirmed uncomfortably as he set his suitcase down beside him and looked down the hallway to the room he had spent the night in previously, “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this…”

“With living here?” Gerard frowned, seemingly impatient, “You could have said-”

“No, no-” Frank interjected, jumping slightly, “No, I mean… With us sharing a room. I mean, this has all happened so fast. I’ve gone from being half-ignored by you to living with you in a matter of hours and I haven’t even finished my contract. It’s not even midnight either so we’re not even official.”

“You do have a point.” Gerard dropped his hand from his bedroom door, “An excellent point, as it were. Would you prefer to sleep separately until you finish your contract, boy?”

“Yes, please…” Frank muttered, “May-Maybe that room that I stayed in last time?”

“Of course.” Gerard held out an arm, gesturing to the door down the hallway as Frank picked up his case and walked toward it, instantly feeling a wave of relief as he walked further and further away from Gerard’s bedroom. He had no idea what it even looked like and yet, he was terrified of it. But he wouldn’t dare tell Gerard that, no. He didn’t want to admit that things were moving too fast, he just assumed it was his nerves acting up as they did. He knew that once he was settled in that it wouldn’t be so bad. He was just being anxious and rightly so considering how badly Ryan had messed with his head. They stopped at the door and Frank looked at it, reaching out slowly to open the wooden separation, his nerve-endings tingling at the feel of the cold metal in his palm, the familiarity having his heart race.

“Home sweet home, boy,” Gerard stated simply as Frank opened the acquainted door into the spare room. He looked around, his cheeks flushing as he remembered the last time he had seen the inside of these walls. He avoided his gaze with the nearby bed, knowing it would only aid to his blushing exterior.

“Thanks...” Frank sighed, “I really appreciate you doing this for me, sir.”

“It was going to happen either way,” Gerard muttered as they stepped further into the room, “Rather sooner than later. This will be your room.”

“But I thought you said…” Frank frowned as he set his suitcase near the bed.

“We will be sharing my room once you’re comfortable, but this room and the en-suite and the closet will be yours. You will not be allowed to use my bathroom unless I give you permission, nor will you be allowed in my closet unless I say otherwise. This is where you will store your belongings throughout the duration of your stay with me, are we clear?”

“Crystal, sir.” Frank smiled as he looked around, “But I don’t sleep here?”

“Not unless you’re being punished and I don’t let you sleep in my room. Then you’re in here, or wherever I tell you to sleep.” Gerard warned, his voice instantly making Frank swallow nervously.

“Right…” Frank whispered as he picked up his suitcase and set it on top of the cushioned bench that was now sat on the end of the bed, “Okay.”

“Are you going to pack now?” Gerard frowned and Frank turned and looked at him, frowning, “It isn’t very late and I’m almost sure it’s dinner time.”

“O-Oh?” Frank straightened up, “What do you do at dinner time?”

“It’s usually only Lindsey and I so we sit at the counter and discuss our day and what have you, but I know she won’t be home until much later. She’s gone out to celebrate a friend’s birthday.”

“Just us then.” Frank smiled slightly, “Sounds good.”

“I honestly haven’t even thought about dinner yet.” Gerard frowned, “Lindsey is usually the chef.”

“Is that because you can’t cook?” Frank asked as he shed his blazer and lay it carefully over his suitcase.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Gerard chuckled lightly, “I’m more than useless in the kitchen. But I think for dinner we should do something simple. Are you hungry, boy?”

“Now that you mention it…” Frank muttered, a hand coming up to his stomach when he realized how hungry he was, “Starving.”

“Well, instead of cooking tonight, why don’t I order us some pizza?” Gerard smiled, “You start unpacking and I’ll go and sort out dinner tonight.”

“Yes, sir.” Frank smiled in return, watching Gerard walk out as he pulled out his phone and walked out of Frank’s bedroom. Frank sighed once Gerard was out of his view, running his hands over his face and through his hair before he turned and unzipped his suitcase, flipping it open. Frank turned, looking at the two doors that weren’t actual doors, one of them being the bathroom and one hopefully being the closet. Frank did a small coin flip in his head and turned, opening the door when he let out a small whimper.

“Holy… Closet…” Frank whispered as he walked into the closet, turning around a tiny section of wall that was just a large metal framed mirror. His jaw dropping at the large room with the wooden floor, the six dark wood shelves that lined the side on his left with a white lightboard behind it that lit up the rows of shoes. There were drawers beneath it that he didn’t dare open. On his right was a large set of drawers that spanned the wall, the top section glass with watches and ties beneath it. There were open sections with pull out canvas drawers and overhead shelving to boot. Right at the end of the closet were two sectioned closet spaces filled with clothing, two others empty for what Frank assumed to be his own clothing. The middle of the dark wood floor was a dark brown rug and a lengthy beige-cushioned footstool that matched the walls in color.

“I see you found your closet,” Gerard muttered from behind Frank, making him yelp and jump, turning to see his Master leaning against the mirror by the doorway.

“This… Is mine?” Frank asked out slowly, taking it in one more time before he looked at Gerard again.

“It is.”

“And- And the clothes?” Frank took a tentative step closer to one of the shelves.

“They’re yours.” Gerard commented, “I bought them just in case.”

“You spent all of this money on me and you weren’t even set on me being yours?” Frank turned, his confusion and his frown deepening, “What would you have done if I said 'no'?”

“I would have slowly and surely just either gifted it all to you, or whatever you didn’t take, I’d return.” Gerard shrugged, “But after I got you those two suits and the other things that went with it, I had other stuff bought for you on my behalf, and here it sits.”

“So all of this stuff is my size?” Frank looked around, “Even all these shoes?”

“I didn’t know everything myself so I guess it’s hit or miss. There’s a range of things from casual to formal. And more work suits for you as well.”

“Wow…” Frank whispered softly as he looked around, “I feel like Mia in Princess Diaries when she sees her closet.”

“A crown was the one thing I didn’t get.” Gerard looked around, “You do have three Crown watches, though. I hope that makes up for it.”

“Jesus Christ, I was kidding.” Frank muttered as he turned and looked at the glass-topped case he had spotted earlier, “Is- I mean- I don’t know what to say…”

“'Thank you' is a great start.” Gerard mused as he straightened up, a small smile on his lips. Frank bit his lip and rushed him, wrapping his arms around Gerard tightly, taking him by surprise, “Whoa, now.”

“Thank you…” Frank muttered against Gerard’s shoulder, “Thank you so much.”

“You deserve it, boy,” Gerard replied, his voice soft as a hand casually but comfortingly stroked through the back of Frank’s head, through his hair as he tightened his grip, his eyes squeezed shut.

“I-” Frank let go, feeling his cheeks slightly tinting pink yet again, “I don’t usually hug but…”

“I’m glad you did.” Gerard smiled, his hands resting on Frank’s waist, “I’m not overtly the hugging type myself but I think I could swing it where you’re concerned.”

“I…” Frank grinned sheepishly and looked down at his feet, “I don’t know how to say a proper 'thank you'. I mean, I.. This must have cost a fortune.”

“Ignore that for now. You’ll make up for it in other ways, boy.” Gerard’s gaze on Frank had his insides twisting so heatedly, it made him feel as though he were naked, as though Gerard could see right through him and it was without a doubt…

Terrifying.

“Is there any way I could?” Frank asked, tilting his head to the side as Gerard leaned in, his face almost an inch away.

“Oh, I can think of many ways, boy. Many, many ways…” Gerard replied back in his stern and suggestive whisper, “It all depends on just how badly you want to make it up to me, Frank.”

“So damn badly.” Frank found himself openly admitting, his voice wavering at the end as he found himself unable to look Gerard in the eye.

“Look at me, boy.” Gerard ordered sternly and Frank let out an involuntary whimper, looking up into Gerard’s molten hazel eyes, his stomach jumping like it would if he were on a thrill ride, “Good. Good boy. It’s such an unfortunate circumstance that you’ve decided to spend an indefinite amount of time in this bedroom of yours. I was hoping I got to spend my nights with you from day one.”

“Wh-Why?” Frank asked despite knowing the answer, knowing exactly what Gerard’s ulterior motives were for them sharing a bed, the only thing Frank wanted was to hear it from the Master’s mouth.

“Because, Frank. I wanted to see what else you’d do for me. I wanted to test the pale waters of your skin and see how much they can handle before they rage in a storm. I wanted to see just how much you’d let me get away with in just one night.”

“O-Oh…” Frank replied shakily, he was definitely not expecting an answer like that in the slightest, the poeticism getting to him. The simple words that held so much more behind them were more than enough to send his pulse racing.

“But it’s a shame that I can’t.” Gerard sighed as he moved away, letting go of Frank altogether, his skin feeling somewhat cold where Gerard’s hands had been.

“Wh- You can’t?” Frank blinked in confusion, his skin tingling and his legs trembling as all he wanted to do was scream for Gerard to just take him then and there.

“I can’t.” Gerard sighed, “Pity. You get to unpacking, boy.”

Frank’s jaw dropped as he watched Gerard turn and walk towards the mirror, heading for the door beside it. Frank let out a whimper, doing what he could to rush forward, grabbing Gerard by the arm before he spun him around, kissing him fervently. Gerard let out a small breath of surprise as Frank kissed him again, whimpering in sheer desperation as he tried to pull Gerard impossibly close. Frank dug his fingers into Gerard’s blazer, tugging on the blue material when Gerard’s hands wrapped around Frank’s wrists and physically peeled him off.

“Excuse you.” Gerard panted, “Did I, at all, give you any semblance of permission to do that, boy?”

“N-No, sir.” Frank whimpered, the familiar tightness off Gerard’s hands around his wrists had him gasp. He clenched his hands, looking at Gerard’s tightened fingers and at his face, the stern look driving him down into submission.

“Then why did you?”

“I-I just…” Frank felt Gerard’s grip tighten and he whimpered as Gerard pushed him back slightly, “I need you.”

“You didn’t ask.” Gerard narrowed his eyes as he pushed Frank’s hands down to his sides forcefully, twisting until Frank’s knees buckled, letting out a small grunt as he was pushed back a small step, “Did you?”

“No, sir.” Frank breathed and Gerard let out a small hum of disapproval, one of his hands letting go of Frank’s wrist before it came down hard, hitting Frank’s ass. He let out a yell in surprise, jumping as his heart skipped more than a beat. He trembled, feeling Gerard’s hand dig into his ass cheek. Frank sucked in a breath at the pain that was still resonating through his ass and out into his body. He hadn’t anticipated it, he hadn’t expected it in the slightest, and neither did he expect the way his body would react to it. His stomach exploded with butterflies, his insides melting and his knees buckling. Gerard’s other hand slid from Frank’s arm to behind the trembling mess of a man in front of him, gripping hard on the other cheek. Frank whimpered in another breath as he was pulled forward, his body pressed against his Master whether he liked it or not. But, oh, did he like it.

“Fuck…” Frank whispered under his breath when Gerard’s lips were on his in an instant, capturing him by surprise yet again, Gerard’s hands squeezing and kneading sinuously as Frank kissed back needily, his hands grasping at Gerard’s chest. Frank instantly slid his hands up over Gerard’s shoulders, pushing his blazer off to the floor as Gerard’s hands let go for a mere second before they were back on Frank, loosening his tie before it was also pulled off. Gerard pushed Frank up against the counter, pressed against the glass as Gerard’s hands made far too quick work of Frank’s belt, unfastening it before Frank’s pants were being pushed from around his hips to the floor. Frank let out a surprised gasp as the cool air hit his thighs along with Gerard’s warm fingertips trailing over his skin, toying with the leg-hem of his boxers.

Gerard stepped closer, taking Frank yet again with his hands on Frank’s ass before he lifted him up, sitting him down on the counter, nipping softly at Frank’s neck as he whined, his legs wrapping around his Master to keep him close. Gerard let out a small chuckle at Frank’s obvious desperation as he pulled at his own tie. He slid the silen material from around his neck before he dropped it and pushed Frank back, tucking his hands into Frank’s boxers before he tugged them down. Frank lifted his hips up weakly, keeping himself up on his elbows on the cold glass as his underwear fell from over his feet.

“You come here, boy.” Gerard muttered, “And you keep quiet or I make you.”

Frank let out a whimper at the severity in his Master’s voice, yelping out quietly as a hand came down hard on his thigh, the skin going stark-white before it began to glint red in comparison to the rest of his skin- The tingles radiating from the handprint were enough to make him drool. He shuddered out a breath, looking up at Gerard before they were at each other again, kissing heavily. Gerard’s tongue met smoothly with his own, twisting and pushing against each other in sync, Gerard groaning deeply when he sucked on Frank’s tongue piercing. Gerard’s hands made quick work of Frank’s shirt buttons, undoing them and pushing his shirt aside before he unfastened his own shirt in haste, Frank’s hands going straight for Gerard’s belt. He undid the leather, unbuttoning Gerard’s blue work slacks when he was stopped, Gerard’s teeth rough on his bottom lip. Gerard pulled out of Frank’s thigh-vice and looked him over, his gaze smoldering with intensity when he bent down to one of the drawers and pulled out a bottle of lube that had Frank chuckle slightly, “Really?”

“You laugh, but a real Dominant is always prepared no matter what,” Gerard muttered nonchalantly as he opened the bottle to squirt some of the clear gel onto his fingers, "Safety is a genuine concern, sweet boy. The only time I ever want you hurt is when I'm doing it intentionally."

“Y-You just had that in here?” Frank breathed out as Gerard nudged his way back in between the latter’s thighs, running a hand up the goosebump-covered skin, his eyes locked on Frank as he wrapped his hand around Frank’s dick. The sudden touch had him cry out, the hard grip-and-twist motion hand him falling back, cringing as he panted.

Gerard set the lube down as he leaned in, “What did I say about the noise?”

“I-” Frank managed from between gritted teeth, his toes curling as Gerard’s curled hand tightened even more around him.

“What did I say, runt?”

Frank let out a shaky breath, his lips rolled in between his teeth as he withheld the urge to moan, whimpering desperately and silently as his body rose and fell in sync with his labored pants. Gerard then loosened his grip, stroking slowly, teasingly as he pushed his pants down and tucked his hand into his tight grey underwear and worked them down. Frank’s eyes widened as he looked down at Gerard’s other hand that was now wrapped around his own length, stroking roughly despite Frank all the while knowing Gerard didn’t need it.

Frank’s body gave a small lurch as Gerard’s thumb flitted over the snug piercing on the underside of his dick, a low mewl leaving him mouth that he tried to suppress. Frank sat back up, scooting forward before he wrapped his legs around Gerard, whining softly under his breath as he could feel Gerard still touching himself between them. Gerard let out a small grunt, reaching up to grab Frank by the hair, tugging hard and pulling him forward. Frank felt the hard sting in his scalp and his mouth opened, finally being able to keep his noises back. Frank let himself get pulled forward, his mouth on Gerard’s in an instant, kissing him just as perfervidly as Gerard was pawing and clawing at him.

Gerard’s hand moved between them, twisting until his fingers were pressed against Frank’s asshole, nudging and pressing without the satisfying burn of him pushing in. Frank pushed his hips forward, desperate and silent pleas as he pushed against Gerard’s fingers, begging and internally hoping and praying to any God for Gerard to finally give him what he wanted. Frank’s eyes opened when Gerard’s hand moved away, the feeling dissipating and leaving him empty and he looked, seeing Gerard slathering the clear lube over himself. Frank swallowed hard, his heart suddenly picking up faster when he realized. Gerard wrapped his hand around himself, pulling Frank closer as he nudged against him. Frank gasped at the feel, the surprise had his stomach twisting uncomfortably but oh, he wanted it- All of it.

“O-Oh,” Frank gasped softly under his breath as he reached up, grabbing Gerard’s hair with one hand, pulling him closer, nipping at his Master’s neck as Gerard’s other arm wrapped around his lower back and dipped him. Frank’s mouth opened as Gerard pushed in, the pain brought back so many familiar and so many new things. His mind reeling as it recollected the last time his body felt so full of pain and like he was about to be torn in half, but only so much more. Frank shuddered out half of a breath, his body tensing up and his toes curling as he leaned back to accommodate.

“Fuck…” Gerard breathed out, his hand tightening its hold on Frank’s hip as he pushed in, his other hand still holding himself steady, wrapped around his dick as the tip of his index finger teasingly toyed with Frank’s asshole. Gerard paused for a split second as Frank moved onto his elbows, fingers clutching the end of the counter as his eyes squeezed shut. His eyes opened wide when Gerard pushed in harder, driving in slick until he bottomed out, sending his submissive over onto his back, his head up against the wall, back curled as he craned his neck to see where their bodies were connected. Frank stifled a whimper behind his panting and he looked up at Gerard, tilting his hips in a curbed and restrained plea for him to move.

“So impatient.” Gerard muttered softly, his voice rough and edged as he slid out and back in slowly, eliciting a moan from Frank as he lifted his hips. Gerard’s hand came down hard on the side of Frank’s thigh in a warning, the latter jumping in fright and being pulled from his pleasured absorption, “Your final warning, boy.”

Frank stuffed his fist in his mouth as Gerard established a from-the-start pace that was way too rough, way too fast, and yet unbearably good. Frank bit down on his hand, whimpering quietly as Gerard’s hips rutted against him, pushing into him roughly, hurriedly as his hips snapped. Gerard’s nails raked their way down and up Frank’s thigh before his arm dipped back down under Frank’s back and lifted him up to sit up on the counter.

Gerard held him up with one arm, the other lifted as he held onto the tie bar above their heads with white knuckles, his head cast down as his nails dug into Frank’s skin and made the submissive want to scream out. Gerard slid both hands underneath Frank and picked him up, stumbling back slightly before he sat back on the middle footstool, both of them moaning in unison as Gerard’s hips lifted, his hands gripping his submissive, moving him up and down roughly. Frank’s mouth dropped open, his head back on his shoulders at the change in position, in the sudden and intense swiftness that Gerard was pushing and pulling him, hitting a new depth inside of him that sitting in Gerard’s lap had brought.

Frank was more than aware of his knees being scraped up on the burlap material of the footstool, the stinging of his kneecaps matching almost to the bright pained scratches of Gerard’s nails down his back as he rocked his hips back and forth, bouncing as he held onto Gerard’s shoulders. Frank pressed himself closer to his Master, his back arching as he wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck, their bodies slick and heated with sweat as they panted. Frank felt Gerard’s mouth warm and wet on the base of his neck, sucking and nipping harder than Frank expected, the pain had him pull away for a second to recollect; to regain the melted bits of his brain.

Frank could feel his thighs aching, his hips hurting at the constant tight position, his skin crawling with tendrils of calidity and unyielding pleasure. He let out a heavy breath as he gouged his fingertips into Gerard’s shoulders, picking up his own momentum as he chased his release. Gerard reached down beside him, grabbing ahold of the footstool for stability as his hand curled up into the back of Frank’s hair and tugged hard, groaning low under his breath. Frank’s feet curled, turning to hook themselves under Gerard’s thighs as he did the same, curling a hand in Gerard’s hair as the other hooked between them, wrapping around himself.

Gerard’s hand connected briskly with Frank’s ass cheek, slapping him harder than the latter had expected, his body jerking up in surprise. He pumped himself quickly, whimpering as he pulled off of Gerard’s dick by mistake, the emptiness surprising him and making him open his eyes. He looked down at Gerard with clear and disregarding insistency, grinding down on Gerard when he was lifted up and lined up, being instantly pushed back down on Gerard.

He cried out in surprise as Gerard’s hips snapped up to meet him, striking against his prostate and sending him tumbling, his orgasm knocking him over inside. He came with a puppy-like whimper, riding Gerard fleetingly and flat out as hard as he could as he pumped himself through, coming between them.

“Such a good boy.” Gerard purred softly, his hot breath on Frank’s collarbone, spanking him one last time, hand kneading the tingling flesh as Frank calmed down, jittering in the oversensitivity as he ran his hand up Gerard’s chest and to his shoulder where he held on, “Make me come, pup.”

Frank nodded silently, saliva dribbling over his bottom lip as he rocked his hips back and forth slowly, getting accustomed to the white-hot fizzles of ecstasy that were buzzing through him at every move, pushing passed the urge to stop when all he wanted to do was make his Master feel as good as he did. Gerard let out a small moan, a deliberate and concentrated sound of pure and exquisite pleasure. The sound only made Frank go faster, his hips stirring in a circle before he sat down hard, gasping and panting in short and heavy breaths as he did it again. Frank pulled Gerard in, kissing him ardently, their tongues clashing in warm spit and unconstrained muscle.

Gerard’s arm wrapped around Frank, edging him harder, quicker as the sounds that were spilling from his lips were growing more interspersed albeit quieter and filled with predilection. Frank sucked in a breath as another spank landed on his ass, teasing and provoking and pushing him harder. Frank gripped tighter as he bounced on Gerard’s dick and watched him lean back on his arms, coming undone with alacrity. Frank sped up, tugging on Gerard’s hair as he rode out his Master’s orgasm, watching his brows furrow and his lips part as he came deep inside of his submissive, marking him in the central and innermost intimate way about which no one would know. Gerard’s hand steadied Frank, slowing him down to a stop as he panted quietly, his pale hand on Frank’s chest. He stilled, looking down at Gerard, whose eyes were open and looking back up, blown out in their post-orgasm haze.

“Such a good boy…” Gerard breathed as he ran his finger over Frank’s bottom lip, “Despite your discrepancies and your listening problem.”

“I-...” Frank began when he realized Gerard had yet to let him speak, rolling his lips back into his mouth, seeing Gerard’s pleased expression.

“There we go, you’re learning.” Gerard sat up straight and Frank twinged, hands sliding up under him, lifting him up and pulling him slowly off of his Master. Frank felt the warmth running down his thigh and he went red, looking down as his cheeks flushed, realizing what had just happened, “And that?”

“Nothing…” Frank muttered softly, biting on his lip.

“Is it perhaps the melange of fluids now running onto my lap that, I’m vastly aware of, is coming from you?” Gerard asked curiously and Frank let out a small groan, burying his face in Gerard’s neck, hearing him chuckle lightly, “I wouldn’t think that that, out of everything, would be what’s making you so uneffusive and shy.”

“I-I’ve just never had that…” Frank muttered, “Last and only time I ever bottomed, you used a condom.”

“That’s true.” Gerard replied candidly, “But it’s a normal thing, where exactly would you have expected any and all fluid to do, Frank? You’re not a sponge.”

“I guess…” Frank sat up, chewing on his lip, “It’s that it’s… On you.”

“You think I care?” Gerard raised an eyebrow, “If anything it’s doing quite the opposite.”

“You’re kidding?” Frank scoffed softly.

“You’re lucky the pizza will be here soon or I wouldn’t hesitate to bend you over again,” Gerard said as he patted Frank’s thigh lovingly.

“And when the pizza’s come and gone?” Frank asked with a hopeful raise of his head.

“We’ll see how you get on with your packing and ablutions, boy.” Gerard reminded as he toyed with the collar of Frank’s unbuttoned shirt.

“Yes, sir.” Frank smiled, “Anything you want, sir.”

“Just what I like to hear.”


	37. I’ve Never Known That One’s Blush Could Match Their Knees

Frank woke up begrudgingly, hidden under the folds of bedding, he really didn’t want to wake up. He felt blissfully content, sliding one hand under the pillow to pull it closer to himself, grumbling when he felt his shoulder being shaken. Someone was clearly trying to rouse him from his slumber and he had to admit after last night, it was the best night's sleep he had in a long time. Frank muttered something into the pillow, wishing to go back to sleep and have a few more minutes.  
  
Frank shifted under the comforter, feeling sore; the kind of sore after a good workout or a long run- Or the best sex of his life. It didn’t feel as bad as the first time but he definitely knew that he could get used to the sore and satisfied feeling.

“Frank,” He heard nearby; the voice that was so soothing, but there was an edge to it. The voice of authority. Frank knew exactly who was trying to wake him up from the moment that he spoke. He opened one eye to look over to the source of the voice had come from and saw Gerard with definite bed hair- Sex hair? He looked too awake for whatever time it was, but Frank knew he could definitely get used to waking up to that face every day. Gerard leaned over, “You need to wake up, boy.”  
  
“M’awake,” Frank spoke thickly, rubbing his hand over one eye, trying to shake the curtain of sleep that was wrapped around him. He propped himself up on his elbows, stretching out before he looked at Gerard, taking note of the fact he was currently dressed in pajama pants and a worn-out looking t-shirt. He definitely wasn’t wearing anything in bed last night before Frank fell asleep after their second time having sex after dinner, so clearly he had gotten up and dressed before waking him. Frank tilted his head, "What time is it?”  
  
“Time you got up,” Gerard told him as he got up from where he had sat on the side of the bed. Frank honestly had no idea what the time was but there was sunlight coming through the cracks in the curtains. It could have been seven or it could have been ten and Frank had no idea as he sat up, stretching his arms out above his head, his body slowly starting to wake up, “You need to get dressed and meet me downstairs in the kitchen. Five minutes, boy. Don’t keep me waiting. We have a lot to go through this morning.”  
  
“Do we?” Frank frowned. In his mind, all he had left to do was the rest of his contract.

“I need to discuss some of the rituals with you,” Gerard answered as he walked towards the door. He looked back at Frank over his shoulder, “Please don’t keep me waiting.”  
  
“Okay, sir,” Frank nodded, watching Gerard disappear out of the bedroom. For a second he just sat there with the duvet bunched around his waist, still coming to terms with the fact that he was back in this bedroom- _His_ bedroom. It was all still so new and overwhelming; it was a lot to take in. All Frank knew was that he had five minutes to get up, get dressed, and meet Gerard in the kitchen. Frank threw the blanket off himself and swung his legs off the bed. He stood up and stretched again, feeling the in his body now that he was upright. He padded over to his closet and grabbed some underwear, a smile playing on his face as he threw them on, the memory of last night playing through his mind vividly. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he grabbed a t-shirt and threw it on quickly.  
  
It wasn’t until he was out in the hallway, heading toward the stairs to find Gerard, that he realized he needed to pee. The urge to urinate took over his need to go downstairs straight away but Frank didn’t want to have to go back into his room. That seemed far too time-consuming when he had probably used up most of the five minutes. Frank wondered if it would just have been easier to go downstairs and ask to excuse himself before they got any work done, but he couldn’t wait that long. He looked down the hall and saw that Lindsey’s bedroom door was open. She must have been out, probably running like she had done the first morning he had spent with Gerard. Frank could see her bathroom and it seemed like the best option if she was out already. Frank scurried down the hall and ducked into her room, trying his best not to be nosy while he went into the en-suite bathroom, finally relieving himself.  
  
Frank couldn’t ignore how sore he felt while he stood there, not really thinking about anything else. The sore sensation creeping up his back and towards his shoulder blades- it was unusual and not what he had expected. He reached around, pushing his shirt up and out of the way, rubbing the small of his back, hoping to alleviate some of the tender pulls as he massaged. He wondered if it had been the new position he had been in last night. Had that really been the cause of this soreness? Frank thought it was the reason until he swore he felt something on his back that made the ache suddenly sting. He finished, muttering ‘what the fuck’ to himself while he flushed the toilet, and walked over to the sink. It felt like a cut, but Frank had no recollection of cutting himself or doing anything that meant he would have injured himself.  
  
He twisted and lifted his shirt up before he gasped; all across his back were red welts ranging from small pale-looking grazes to long angry-red lines that disappeared up under his scrunched shirt. He stared at the cuts that littered his back and down his back, his eyebrows raised when he saw faint dotted spots where the skin had been broken. He lifted his shirt as high as he could, bunching it up around his neck, and saw more red scores across his shoulder blades. He was unable to look away from his own reflection in the mirror and unable to think of anything other than how they had gotten there. He remembered more of last night and not just their first time in the closet but their followed dalliance before Frank had passed out in bed; how Gerard had practically pared his skin with his nails across Frank’s back during sex. In the heat of the moment, it had felt phenomenal and Frank hadn’t even thought about the fact that Gerard was scratching him and marking him, leaving cuts that littered his back. The pain mixed with the pleasure had driven Frank crazy; something he hadn’t felt for such a long time when it came to sex.   
  
Frank tried to reach around, running his fingers over one of the longer welts on his back. It stung to touch and he hissed at the slight pain that radiated from the area. He couldn’t help the smile that was playing on the corner of his lips at the thought of being marked by his Master. It definitely had an effect on him and made his stomach twist and knot up at the sight. He had gotten a little lost in his own head while he had been admiring what Gerard had done to him. He hadn’t noticed that he was no longer alone until the bathroom door opened fully and Lindsey walked in, letting out a loud shriek when she realized that someone was in there. Frank yelped and spun around, pulling his shirt down swiftly as he backed right up against the sink. His heart hammered in his chest at the fright of Lindsey walking in so quietly. She was definitely back from her run; still dressed in all of her running gear with her hair scraped back into a haphazard bun. She stood there, one hand on her chest while the other one clung onto the door frame, looking at Frank like she had just seen a ghost.  
  
“What are you doing in my fucking bathroom?” Lindsey hissed angrily, eyeing Frank as she caught her breath.  
  
“I-I-I-” Frank stammered, “I g-got lazy. I needed a pee… I thought you were out-”  
  
“So you used my bathroom?” She choked out, her voice colored with shock and disgust at Frank’s audacity. She did appear much calmer now, but still highly displeased, “What the fuck is wrong with yours?”  
  
“Nothing, nothing,” Frank backtracked fast, hoping that Lindsey wasn’t going to be angry with him for too long, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think- I just did-”  
  
“Relax,” Lindsey waved a hand, sighing as she pushed a flyaway hair out of her face. She scowled slightly at him as she put her hands on her hips, “I’m not Gerard so I’m not going to scold you. If you’d have used his bathroom then I know he would be furious… Just- Next time, please, dear God, use your own bathroom.”  
  
“Okay,” Frank nodded, holding onto the bathroom sink as he ducked his head down, “I’m sorry, Lindsey. I promise- I swear, it won’t happen again.”  
  
Frank went to leave, he knew that he was running late to meet Gerard downstairs. God knows how he was going to explain this to him. At least Frank had a reason for running late. Lindsey stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, smirking at him smugly, “So, I take it, my advice helped?”

“It did, yeah,” Frank blushed profusely, “Thanks.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” She smiled at him before looking at him seriously, “But you do realize what I meant now when I said Gerard was a Dominant? Or has he not told you yet?”  
  
“Oh, no, I know now,” Frank chuckled, wondering if Lindsey had seen the state of his back when she had walked in on him, “I know all about him and the kinky fuckery it entails.”  
  
“Lovely,” Lindsey sighed, shaking her head, “As long as I don’t hear anything of said ‘fuckery’, then we’re all good.”  
  
“Okay,” Frank breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that she had calmed down. She looked happy now, or at least calm enough not to throttle him, “Thank you.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Lindsey smiled at him, “So, I assume you two are…”  
  
“Something,” Frank finished off her sentence for her, not entirely sure if he could say to her that he was in fact Gerard’s submissive. She must have known what was going on but Frank didn’t know if it was his place to say anything or not. He rolled on his heels lightly, “I just didn’t realize something like this would involve so much paperwork.”  
  
“Gerard is thorough,” Lindsey chuckled softly, leaning against the wall near the door, “You’ve got to know what you’re getting yourself into. I take it you do? It’s not just about him scratching your back you know?”  
  
Frank went bright red when Lindsey said that; the look on her face only added to the realization for Frank that she knew exactly what had happened to him. She had seen the state of his skin when she walked into the bathroom. Frank asked nervously, “Does it look bad?”   
  
“It looks like you two know what you’re doing,” Lindsey waved a hand at him, “I mean, he does. He’s known from day one of meeting you.”  
  
“Oh, I know,” Frank snorted before realizing that he had been standing around talking for far too long. He should have just gone straight downstairs to find Gerard, but instead, he had hung around and now he realized that he was really running late, “Shit- Lindsey, I need to go downstairs. He’s waiting for me.”  
  
“Go,” She told him, watching Frank leave the bathroom quickly, “Don’t keep him waiting. God forbid.”  
  
Frank rushed down the hall, practically running down the stairs when he got to them. When he got downstairs, he saw Gerard standing and leaning against the island counter, arms folded and an unimpressed eyebrow raised. He looked down at his watch, “You’re late, boy. Nine minutes, in fact. What were you doing up there?”  
  
“I ran into Lindsey, sir.” Frank answered quickly, his head instinctively bowing down as h scurried closer, “I apologize, I-I didn’t mean to be late.”  
  
“I noticed the Psycho-esque scream a moment ago,” Gerard mentioned nonchalantly, “I do hope you were dressed when she found you, Norman Bates?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Frank nodded, avoiding the minor detail that had made Lindsey shriek, “Dressed as I am now. We were just talking- I lost track of time.”  
  
“Well, make a note for next time, boy,” Gerard spoke, straightening himself up as he slid sinuously into one of the barstools, “If I tell you to do something in an allotted time scale, then you do it. Do you understand me?”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Frank nodded, his head still bowed down to a degree, avoiding the burning stare that he was so sure was being directed right at him, “I promise it won’t happen again, sir.”  
  
“Good boy,” Gerard sounded pleased, “Now, come sit next to me. We have a lot to get through this morning.”  
  
“What time is it?” Frank asked as he made his way over to Gerard, pulling out the stool to the right of him, sitting down on gingerly on the cold chair.  
  
“Three minutes past eight.”  
  
“Really?” Frank whined softly, wishing that he was still in bed; it was Saturday. That was a time for lying around in bed and not having to worry about getting up to alarms or having to be anywhere. Frank knew he was the kind of person who would tumble out of bed past ten on the weekends. He pouted, “It’s so early.”  
  
“You don’t know the meaning of the word early,” Gerard chuckled, sliding a piece of paper over to Frank, “Today, we need to go through your rituals.”  
  
“Kinky,” Frank smiled playfully. He straightened his expression when he saw the serious demeanor to Gerard’s face. He reeled it in and cleared his throat before trying to get a look at the piece of paper that Gerard had given him, “So, what are these rituals?”  
  
“These will be the things that you do every day. Orders that you have to follow; a planned out timetable that you will follow. Do you understand, boy?” Gerard asked, watching Frank nod, “No hanging around having chats. If you run late then there will be repercussions.”  
  
“Okay,” Frank nodded again, his voice shaky over the idea of there being consequences if he ran late. Luckily, Gerard had let him off this morning, but the idea of Gerard doing something to him if he ran late made him giddy and nervous all at once. He looked at his Master, “So, what do I have to do?”  
  
“Well, first on the list, even if we are running a little behind schedule with a few things,” Gerard said, checking over the list quickly, “Is breakfast.”  
  
“Is this your way of making sure I don’t skip meals?”  
  
“I mean you making _me_ breakfast,” Gerard corrected and Frank stalled, letting out a small 'oh' when he realized. Gerard continued explaining, “Be this what it is, every morning you will cook and serve me breakfast. Being a submissive isn’t just about pleasing me whenever I desire, there is also domestic discipline. Breakfast is one of those things that will be part of your daily rituals.”  
  
“So I just make you breakfast?” Frank smiled at the idea of that. It had been so long since he had properly cooked, and the idea of being able to do it for Gerard was something that he knew he would enjoy. Seeing himself as an alright cook, Frank was more than happy about this part of his new day to day life, “I am so down for doing that. What am I making you? I take it, you decide that for me, too?”  
  
“Eggs in the fridge,” Gerard answered. Frank got up from the chair and made his way around the counter when Gerard spoke again, “Did I say you could move, boy?”  
  
Frank froze barely a meter away from the fridge, mentally cursing himself, “...no, sir.”  
  
“Running late and not asking permission,” Gerard looked over his submissive, rubbing his finger over his bottom lip, “Am I going to have to do something to make you conform, boy?”  
  
“N-No, sir,” Frank stammered, feeling like his stomach had dropped down to his feet when Gerard had his eyes wandering over him like he was seeing him naked. He felt so exposed suddenly and it made him blush as he tried to speak, his voice barely above a whisper, “C-Can I make you breakfast now, sir?”  
  
Gerard waved a hand and Frank hoped that it meant that he could carry on. When he moved, Gerard didn’t berate him for disobeying, and a small relief washed over him. He opened the fridge, feeling a little excited about his current task. He may not have done it properly for a long time and he was worried that he was going to mess up, but it was all being ignored because all he wanted to do was make his Master happy.  
  
“You seem rather keen on the idea of making me breakfast,” Gerard commented casually as he watched the submissive over the top of his steepled fingers.  
  
“I do?” Frank responded, hoping to come off as nonchalant as possible when he set the carton of milk down beside the eggs.

  
“Do you enjoy cooking?” Gerard queried, watching Frank scavenge through the kitchen cupboards to find the necessary utensils.  
  
“I do, actually,” Frank blushed a little at the admittance, “I just never really had the opportunity to do it before.”  
  
Gerard frowned, “How so?”   
  
“Well, when I was with Ryan…” Frank couldn’t help the sneer to the name as it fell from his lips. He felt slightly guilty for mentioning his ex despite not really knowing why. He hugged the mixing bowl to his midriff nervously as he answered, “I wanted to cook for him, but he was such a control freak. He liked to have complete control over how we lived and what we ate. He always got so nervous when I offered to cook because I wouldn’t do it how he did it. It wouldn’t be done how he liked it… So, eventually, I just stopped trying and let him take control of that.”  
  
“Can I ask,” Gerard started, pursing his lips, “This man sounds like he has OCD or tendencies for it anyway. Did that ever occur to you, or did he ever mention it to you?”  
  
“Nope,” Frank sighed, taking three eggs out of the little metal holder they were in, cracking them into the bowl before he realized he didn’t have a whisk. He wandered over to the drawers “I never thought about it like that. I just thought it was Ryan being ‘Ryan’ so I left him to it. It was easier that way. Fewer arguments.”  
  
Gerard hummed, nodding, “Did you two argue a lot?”  
  
“Can we change the subject?” Frank cringed, hoping that Gerard wasn’t going to be offended, while he searched for a whisk. He found the plastic utensil hanging from a carousel with other cooking tools next to the stove and went back to whisk the eggs, “Sorry, sir, but I don’t really want to talk about Ryan if I’m honest. Not exactly the kind of conversation I’m happy about having. You could say it’s a hard limit for me.”  
  
“Duly noted,” Gerard chuckled, “I’m sorry if I came across as invasive, boy.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Frank reassured him with another sigh, adding in a little milk before he realized that Gerard didn’t have coffee. He stopped what he was doing and instantly went to find two mugs. He hesitated on asking, looking over at his Master who still had an eye on him, “Coffee, sir?”  
  
“Please,” He responded, “Make yourself one if you’d like.”  
  
Frank was grateful; he was still getting used to having to ask if he could do something or have something. He hoped not to slip up again. Frank went about making coffee, finding a rather fancy looking coffee machine in the corner by an expensive blender. Frank frowned at the machine as he bent down slightly to examine the options. He put the mug under the spout, checked the coffee levels, and pressed the buttons. He sighed in relief when he heard it start up. He went back to the eggs when Gerard spoke, “So, I was thinking that once we had gone through these rituals, you could probably continue with your contract. No point in dragging it out now that it has started.”  
  
“Okay,” Frank nodded as he set Gerard’s coffee down in front of him, sliding the milk and sweeteners over along with a spoon and a smile. Gerard prepared his coffee as Frank went to make his own, “How much do I have left to do?”  
  
“Roughly ten pages,” Gerard took a sip of his beverage and let out a satisfied hum, “This is good coffee, Frank, but back on track, I am more than confident that you can finish it today.”  
  
“Will that be a part of my rituals?” Frank queried as he went back to making breakfast, finding a pan in a cupboard near the oven. He took it out and put it down on one of the plates. He poured a tiny splash of oil into the pan before switching the plate on, impressed by the flat glass top that showed no actual indication of being a stove at all. The entire kitchen seemed so expensive and vocational; all the silver appliances so shiny and sleek.  
  
“For today, yes. Also-” Gerard began but the sound of footsteps on the stairs stopped him midthought. They both looked over to see Lindsey coming down the stairs with a summery smile on her lips. Frank felt abated as he went back to the fridge, wondering what he could add to the eggs.

“Good morning,” Lindsey chirped as she entered the kitchen, walking over to Gerard to kiss him on the cheek. Frank kept to himself while she went over to the coffee machine to make herself a flat white. He stayed quiet, worried that if he spoke, she would mention what he had done to her this morning, “And good morning to you, again, Frank.”  
  
“Morning,” Frank mumbled, blushing lightly while he grabbed some mushrooms that he found in one of the drawers in the fridge.  
  
“Did you have a good night last night, dear?” Gerard turned his attention to Lindsey, watching her remove her mug from the machine, blowing on the steaming contents before taking a sip. Frank went about his business, finding a board and knife. He began dicing the mushrooms, keeping himself busy and out of the spotlight.  
  
“It was good,” Lindsey told him as she sat down on one of the stools on Gerard’s left, “It was at that little restaurant down the road from us. Nobo, I think it was called.”  
  
“Oh, I’ve heard good things about it,” Gerard added casually. Frank listened to their conversation, fingers mentally crossed as he poured the egg mixture into the pan, sprinkling the mushrooms in before he turned to examine the extensive spice rack.  
  
“I take it you had some company last night while I was out,” Lindsey smirked, glancing over at Frank, making his head pop up instantly. Frank looked wide-eyed at her, a whimper sitting in his throat, his hand wrapped around the salt shaker.  
  
“Yes, I brought Frank over after work,” Gerard spoke, ignoring the burning blush on Frank’s cheeks while he spoke about him. Frank kept himself quiet, paying attention to the eggs as he salted them lightly. He added a few herbs all the while he made sure that he was going to burn the omelet. Gerard spoke again after a sip of coffee, “You were already gone by the time we got back so I couldn’t explain the situation to you.”  
  
“Next time, can you just make sure I don’t find your new scratching-post in my bathroom, please,” Lindsey said far too casually, dropping a bomb right in the middle of the kitchen. Frank nearly dropped the spatula that he had almost launched out of his hand. He scrambled to catch it, cursing under his breath, immediately apologizing and refusing to look at Gerard who was frowning at him, “He gave me such a fucking fright when I came back from my morning run.”   
  
“What is she talking about, boy?” Gerard asked, turning his attention to Frank who was staring at the food because making eye contact with Gerard felt like a feat in itself. Frank didn’t want to admit that he had gone wandering this morning, despite the reason. Frank folded over the omelet in the pan, pretending that Lindsey hadn’t said anything. She slid from the chair and sidled up beside him, looking towards Gerard.  
  
“Leave the poor boy alone,” Lindsey crooned, her voice may have been in a playful tone but she was still defending Frank from Gerard’s wrath. Frank knew looked like he was about to catch on fire; he wasn’t making contact with either of them. He just flinched a little when Lindsey ran the back of her index finger across his cheek, “He’s embarrassed, poor baby. He knows not to do it again, don’t you, baby?”  
  
Frank glanced at Lindsey briefly, nodding and saying a quiet ‘yeah’ before she nodded and walked away from him. She stood closer to Gerard, who just sat there with eyes narrowed, watching Frank with an intense gaze when Lindsey spoke up again, “I think it’s rather cute, to be honest.”

Frank looked up at her admittance, his frown knitted his brows close. The blush had now grown to spread and warm his ears, “Cute?”

“I’ve never known that one’s blush could match their knees.”  
  
Frank's mouth dropped open and he immediately looked down, shifting so he could see how red his knees actually were. He hadn’t paid attention to them while he was getting dressed. They were scuffed, red and raw from the night before. The rough material of the footstool had clearly abraded his knees, and now he could only imagine the color of his face. He kept it as hidden as he could, avoiding looking at the pair that were watching him avidly.  
  
“I’ll be about if you need me,” Lindsey moved the conversation on, letting Frank simmer away as he finished cooking Gerard’s breakfast. He flipped it once more before plating it up, going on a hunt to find cutlery, “I have a lot to do today so if you need me, call me.”  
  
“So do I,” Gerard agreed, “I have a lot of work to do so I’ll be in my office if you need me.”  
  
“I’m sure someone will be able to help you if you need anything,” Lindsey said pointedly, looking right at Frank, who looked at her with wide eyes, pausing as he held onto the plate of food and cutlery. She chuckled, running her free hand across Gerard’s back, smiling at the two of them before she went to leave, “I’ll see you boys later.”  
  
Gerard bid her goodbye as Frank mumbled one out, focusing more on the fact that he was holding onto the plate of food that he set down in front of his Master, almost forgetting to set the cutlery properly. He didn’t know what the protocol was but just in case, he did it anyway, holding his hands behind his back when he was done.  
  
“This looks delicious,” Gerard commented, picking up his knife and fork before cutting up the omelet, “Your culinary skills far surpass mine.”  
  
“Thank you, sir.” Frank nodded, fighting back the urge to smile at the compliment that Gerard had just casually given him. He waited for a second, hoping to find out if he actually enjoyed it. Gerard took a mouthful, chewing before he stopped, seeing that Frank was watching him with practically bated breath.  
  
“You do know that it is highly rude to watch someone eat, boy,” Gerard pointed out, making Frank avert his eyes immediately, shrinking back a little, “Plus, you haven’t made yourself breakfast.”  
  
“I was going to ask if I could make myself some,” Frank whispered softly.  
  
“You remembered,” Gerard nodded, smiling proudly while he chewed, “Good boy. You may, indeed.”  
  
Frank thanked Gerard as he went back to where he had been cooking. He started to make himself the same as what he had made his Master. Frank assumed that he probably wouldn’t be allowed to make anything different from what Gerard was having and went about cracking more eggs into the bowl.  
  
“This is really good,” Gerard told Frank, pointing his fork down at the plate of food, licking his lips while nodding, “Very flavorsome. I never knew someone could make eggs interesting.”  
  
“Thank you, sir.” Frank smiled nervously as he poured his breakfast into the pan. He cut up a few more mushrooms and added them into the pan while watching Gerard out of the corner of his eye.  
  
“Now,” Gerard cleared his throat, getting back onto the topic, “As I said, I need to go over your rituals with you. This is something that you should follow precisely. No dilly-dallying around like you did this morning, understand?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“So I know we’re running behind schedule this morning, but we can make up for lost time,” Gerard continued, looking over the sheet of paper that he slid closer with his pinky finger. Frank craned his neck, curious about what was on the sheet, “I shall begin with the weekend, seeing as it is Saturday. Makes sense to start where we already are, don’t you agree, boy?”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Frank nodded as Gerard ate some more breakfast, taking a sip on his coffee.  
  
“Now, I know I chose to ignore the rituals this morning, seeing as last night was your first night as part of this, but as of now, I expect you to be up and awake at seven every Saturday and Sunday.”  
  
“Seve-” Frank cut himself off almost immediately, stifling his outburst. He continued to cook his breakfast, glancing up to see Gerard looking at him with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Was that you speaking out of turn?” Gerard queried, “Something wrong with how I do this?”  
  
“No, sir.” Frank managed to retrocede his statement with a vehement nod, already guessing that there was no chance that it would be changed. He was just going to have to get used to it whether he liked being up that early at the weekend or not.  
  
“Once you are up, I expect you to be down by seven-fifteen, no later. Then, you may have something to eat- Not breakfast. You eat breakfast with your Master, always. At this time you can have a snack, something light to tide you over until it is actually time for breakfast.”  
  
“Right,” Frank nodded, finishing cooking his breakfast before he slid his omelet onto a white plate. He quickly set all the dirty utensils in the sink, knowing that he was going to have to do that after eating. He joined Gerard, nearly forgetting that he had to sit on his right, “And what I can eat is…”  
  
“Lindsey likes to keep the kitchen topped up. There is always food in this house. You can help yourself to fruit, smoothies, yogurts…”  
  
“Not the fancy ones, though,” Frank smiled to himself as he picked up his fork. He paused, “Can I eat, sir?”  
  
“Of course,” Gerard waved a hand at him, “Now, moving on. At half-past seven, that is when you will come to wake me. Lucky for you, I’m a light sleeper so it won’t take much to wake me.”  
  
“Okay, sir.” Frank took note of that, eating a mouthful of his breakfast,   
  
“Come seven forty-five, I expect you to do at least an hour of exercise,” Gerard worked his way down the list, not noticing how Frank disdain about the exercise. He knew that he had gone over exercise in the contract, but he had just assumed that it wasn’t something that would happen straight away. Gerard chuckled, “Don’t look so worried, boy. I’m not going to make you do anything too arduous.”  
  
“But what are you going to make me do?” Frank queried, bringing his mug of coffee up to take a sip.  
  
“Well, you don’t need to do weights,” Gerard commented instantly, “I’m not looking to bulk you up. It’s more a case of making sure that your body will be able to handle what it will be put through, as I explained before.”  
  
“So what will I have to do?”  
  
“Whatever works for you,” Gerard carried on, working his way through his breakfast while they talked, “Personally for me, I go running. Sometimes I swim. Both are great ways to keep yourself in shape. All you need is cardio. Nothing else.”  
  
“Probably a bad time to say that I’m not the strongest of swimmers…” Frank spoke quietly, feeling somewhat ashamed of that admittance. He knew it wasn’t a bad thing, it was just that he felt nervous about it.

  
“It’s not a bad thing, I’m glad you were honest with me,” Gerard reassured him warmly, “Maybe you could join me on a run and we can see how that works out for you. If it doesn't, then we will find something that does work for you.”  
  
Frank nodded while chewing on a mouthful of food, feeling somewhat reserved about the idea of an hour's worth of exercise, but he moved along with Gerard when he went onto the next part of his weekend ritual, “Nine o’clock until nine-fifteen is when you shower and dress. I’m more than sure you can be ready within fifteen minutes… Unlike this morning.”  
  
“But you only gave me five minutes this morning,” Frank pointed out with a small tilt of his fork.  
  
“That is true, but this morning is completely different from how it will usually be. I didn’t ask you to shower; only to get dressed… Probably should have said something about not scaring Lindsey, mind you.”  
  
Frank grumbled into his coffee mug, “Wasn’t intentional.”.  
  
“Fifteen minutes is fair, and plenty of time for you to get ready,” Gerard said confidently, “Once dressed and downstairs, that is when you make breakfast.”  
  
“So, do I have set meals that I have to make, or is this something I have some sort of free reign on?” Frank questioned, watching Gerard finish his breakfast before setting his cutlery down on his empty plate.  
  
“Unless I ask for you to make something specific, the kitchen is all yours,” Gerard told Frank, whose face lit up immediately at the thought of having the kitchen to himself, “You seem more than content with that, boy.”  
  
Frank nodded, finishing his mouthful, “Just gonna be nice to not have someone shoving me out of the kitchen when all I want to do is help.”  
  
“I bet,” Gerard responded with a nod, running his finger down the list to the next thing, “Lunch will be at one on the weekends. Dinner at six. Same thing as breakfast so we don’t need to go over that again.”  
  
“What happens between those times?” Frank asked curiously, catching a glimpse of the weekend timetable, noticing that there was nothing listed between the three meals.  
  
“Between those times, that is for me to decide,” Gerard told him, “These rituals are left open like this so I can plan accordingly. Sometimes I work over the weekend and I will require your assistance. Other times I might have plans and those plans can be slotted in where I see fit.”  
  
“Slotted in, huh?” Frank smirked, his mind immediately going toward the gutter when Gerard frowned, his eyes narrowing. Frank couldn’t even hide the smile on his face.  
  
He shook his head, letting out a quiet sigh, “Not everything has to revolve around sex, you know, boy.”  
  
“But I’m guessing that those few hours could be put to that kind of use,” Frank suggested, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at Gerard.  
  
“What we do with that time is wholly up to me,” Gerard reminded, “But if I do choose to use the free time in that way, you will be the first to know, my depraved boy.”  
  
Frank hid his blush behind the coffee cup he was holding close to his face, taking sips every now and again.  
  
“Bedtime will be decided accordingly over the weekends, depending on your behavior, our plans, and my decision accordingly,” Gerard continued, ignoring the pink tint that still adorned Frank's cheeks, “If and when I say that it is bedtime, there will be no arguing over it. Do you understand?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”   
  
“Good boy,” Gerard nodded, looking pleased, “You will sleep in my bed with me unless I tell you otherwise. If you act up or I find you transgressing, I won’t hesitate to send you to your room. Or even have you sleeping on the floor…”  
  
“R-Really?” Frank stuttered, not sure if Gerard was bluffing or not, but the look in his eyes showed that he was serious. Frank gulped back, drinking his coffee quietly, hoping and praying that Gerard wouldn’t do such a thing to him. He ignored the butterflies in his full stomach.

“Let’s just hope that you won’t push me to the point where you find out if I’m serious or not, hmm?” Gerard added, looking at Frank over the rim of his coffee cup when he took a drink. He set it back down, breaking eye contact before turning back to the paper, “Now, weekdays aren’t too different from the weekend. There are a few differences that you should take note of. For instance, you will need to be up earlier. Five-fifteen start-”  
  
“Five-fifteen?” Frank cut Gerard off in shock. He shrunk back instantly, apologizing profusely as he bowed his head down, avoiding the glare that was being directed at him.  
  
“I’ll ignore that sudden bout of interruption and put it down to the fact that you don’t usually see five-fifteen,”  
  
“I don’t know how I manage to see six AM when I have to get up for work,” He admitted nervously, “Five- Isn’t that a bit early? I’m not exactly a morning person.”  
  
“You will be fine, boy,” Gerard encouraged with a short smile, “It’s only a matter of adjustment and getting used to it. Once you get into the swing of this then it will be easy.”  
  
Frank wanted to disagree, but he thought against it. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to start arguing over this, especially seeing as Gerard wasn’t just his boss anymore.  
  
“The only other two differences to the weekend is that at three PM, you will eat again. A light snack like you have in the mornings,” Gerard explained, “Dinner will be following at six as usual and the other thing is that bedtime will be at half-ten unless I specify a different time.”  
  
“What are the chances of you specifying a different time?” Frank asked curiously, watching Gerard slide the timetable sheet over to him to let him look it over himself.  
  
“Well, the reason for the early night is because you are to rise early. You need your rest and, until you get more used to the routine, it will stay that way. Once you have adjusted, then I can decide on a different time for you if I choose to have you up later or not,” Gerard explained fluidly, making Frank realize what he hadn’t already. Half ten until five-fifteen; he was going to be sleeping for just under seven hours. A devilish smile pulled at Gerard’s lips, “Sometimes it may also depend on how well behaved you are, boy.”

Frank looked at his Master, feeling his stomach drop down to his feet as he sucked in a shaky breath. He nodded again, trying to fight the reaction to his Master’s words. Gerard drank the last of his coffee before setting the cup down. Frank was all but finished too, watching as his Master stood up to stretch lightly, “I have to say, that was quite possibly one of the best breakfasts I’ve had in a long time.”  
  
“Thank you, sir.” Frank beamed, looking over his shoulder to see the stack of dishes he had left in the sink, contemplating. He didn’t entirely know what to do, so asking was the safest thing to do, “Should I do the dishes now we have finished, sir?”  
  
“Don’t worry about it today,” Gerard told him with a wave of his hand, “We have a lovely woman who comes in on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Every other day, yes, you will do the dishes. For now, though, I do believe you have something far more important to do while I work.”  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
“Your contract, boy,” Gerard reminded, “You still have ten pages left to do. And seeing as you have some free time, I suggest you use it wisely.”

“Yes, sir.”


	38. Ah, the Prize Quality in a Dominant, Humor

“Frank, instead of annoying me, why don’t you make yourself useful?”

“Whatcha need, sir?” Frank asked with a giggle, looking at Gerard upside down as he lay draped the wrong way up over Gerard’s olive leather sofa in his home office.

“I need you…” Gerard began, “To finish your contract, boy.”

“Oh, yeah.” Frank smiled as Gerard got up slowly and walked over, setting it and the three markers down on Frank’s stomach before he crouched down, looking at Frank, who hadn’t moved, “You’re hot upside down.”

“Ditto,” Gerard whispered softly, the suggestive tone in his voice had Frank swallowing heavily, the smirk on Gerard’s lips merely sealed the deal as he leaned down, kissing Frank chastely. Frank let out a small whimper at the sudden affection, instinctively kissing back before Gerard moved back and stood up, leaving Frank feeling instantly filled with butterflies and slightly awestruck.

“Keep yourself busy with that, boy.” Gerard instructed, looking down at Frank, who merely nodded, earning a light kick to the head with Gerard’s shoe that made him hiss and jump, “Excuse me?”

“I- Yes- Yes sir?” Frank grunted, rubbing the side of his skull as Gerard hummed in disapproval.

“Watch it, boy.” Was all he said before he walked back to his desk, sitting himself back down in the chair as he carried on typing.

“Gunplay: the practice of including actual, or simulated, firearms into a scene. Sounds dope. I’m in. Hafada: piercing through the upper part of the scrotum. That’s… That actually doesn’t sound too bad. Maybe. Hairbrush spankings. Yellow. Hair pulling. Oh, fuck me up with that shit. Green. Handcuffs: commonly used BDSM device to restrain the wrists. Commonly used device to give Frank a boner. Green. Handjobs: giving. Yes. Handjobs: receiving. Please and thank you. Handkerchief codes: visible signs to indicate to others your area of BDSM interest; a color worn on the left indicates a top, on the right indicates a bottom. Green.”

“If you behave and finish this contract, you may or may not get a reward from me, boy,” Gerard commented simply and Frank faltered, looking up- or down- at Gerard with a sudden and keen interest.

“I-I do?”

“I said if you behave, boy.” Gerard warned, “And that’s my level of behaving, not yours. Now get your grubby feet off my wall or I’ll make you repaint the whole house on your own.”

“I-” Frank spun himself around and sat up slowly, “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” Gerard looked up at him from his work, “Carry on.”

“Yes, sir.” Frank couldn’t contain the thrumming excitement that was now diverging through his bloodstream, his mind wondering what a reward from Gerard would be like, “Hard limits- Sir? Is this just having hard limits in general or is this going over my hard limits and ignoring them? It just says ‘hard limits’ here.”

“That’s merely having hard limits. And considering you do already, it gets marked green.” Gerard added, not looking up from his work.

“Thank you, sir.” Frank replied as he lined the words in green, “Harem: a group of subs serving one or more dominants. I- Uh... Maybe. Harness leather or rope: Elaborate bondage device made with leather straps worn on the body or tied with rope. Green. Having food chosen for you. Green. Having clothes chosen for you. Green. High Heels: popular objects of foot fetishists, along with boots. Fuck it, green. Hobble Skirt: a very narrow skirt that restricts the wearer’s ability to take anything other than tiny steps. I-I don’t know what that looks like?”

“Do you know that leather skirt that Lindsey wears to work with the bit of leather frill at the bottom? The really tight one that has every other man in the office slobbering besides you, me, Josh, and Patrick and Pete?”

“Why them?”

“They’re also gay, Frank.” Gerard chuckled and Frank was taken aback, but remembered the skirt directly, “That’s a hobble skirt. Very popular in the 1910s as a fashion staple.”

“I don’t have her hips, That won’t suit me in the slightest, I say ‘nay’,” Frank muttered.

“Either that or you say ‘nay’ because afraid you’ll look better in it than her and throw her off her game at the office.” Gerard chuckled and Frank let out a sputtered laugh, snickering behind the pages as he lifted them up, looking over at Gerard who was eyeing him with a playful smirk.

“You’re being terrible.” Frank gushed.

“Am I, though?” Gerard asked thoughtfully, only making Frank giggle even more than before, hiding his face behind the contract as he brought his knees up to his chest, “It’s good to hear you laughing.”

“How can I not?” Frank grinned, “You’re making me laugh.”

“Ah, the prize quality in a Dominant, humor.” Gerard stated sarcastically, “Of all things for you to focus on.”

“I value humor rather high on my list of traits,” Frank replied matter-of-factly and Gerard raised an eyebrow.

“Then why, pray tell, boy… Did you date Ryan for so long?”

“I- You’re cruel.” Frank’s eyes widened, “Steady on. No need to wreck anyone’s asshole but mine.”

“You’re right, perhaps that was a bit much.” Gerard looked down at his laptop, typing away.

“You do have a point, though, Ryan didn’t ever really have much of a sense of humor. I was always the funny one.” Frank sighed, “Glad you have some funny-bone in you at least.”

“What’s a good relationship without laughter, Frank? ‘Tis boring if one not laughs when necessary, one grows old too quickly.” Gerard smiled, “I may look like I’ve always been sucking on a lemon, but truth be told that’s my natural expression. Everyone always thinks I’m pissed off on something.”

“Tell me about it. You always look thundering.” Frank muttered, “Glad I got used to it, but let me tell you it’s terrifying initially.”

“My apologies, boy.” Gerard gave Frank a small corner smile, “Now if you don’t mind. List.”

“Right. Yes, sir.” Frank nodded, pointedly clearing his throat, “Hood: a head covering, usually made of leather, that the Dominant wears to increase the ‘fear factor’ in a BDSM scene or a submissive is made to wear to provide some degree of sensory deprivation. Fuck me up. Green. Hogtie: to secure a person by fastening the hands and feet together. Definitely. Horse: in bondage, it is a modification of a sawhorse over which a submissive can be tied. Sometimes called a spanking bench. Green. Housework: cleaning up. Green. Humiliation? Green. Hypnotism? Wh-? Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Hypnotism?”

“Ah,” Gerard smiled, “Erotic hypnosis is the practice of hypnosis for sexual purposes. This does not include hypnotherapy nor the therapeutic application of neuro-linguistic programming and similar disciplines. A person under hypnosis is said to have heightened focus and concentration with the ability to concentrate intensely on a specific thought or memory while blocking out sources of distraction. It's all tied up in issues of power and relinquishing control.”

“Red.” Frank muttered, pursing his lips, “Thank you, sir.”

“Any time, boy.”

“Ice cubes. Sure. Immobilization: an extreme form of bondage where no body parts can move, one example is mummification. Not for beginners. Still sounds fun. Green. Impact play: part of sensation play, dealing with impact such as whips, riding crops, paddles, floggers, etc. God, yes. Infantilism: Parent/child or parent/baby role-playing. Fuck no. Infibulation: closing off, obstructing, or modifying, either permanently or temporarily, the male or female genitalia so as to alter or prevent the conduct of sexual intercourse. Wh-”

“One of my hard limits, I think aforementioned when we first went through this.” Gerard commented, “Don’t worry.”

“That’s…” Frank stared at the page in disgust as he ran the red marker over it twice, shuddering, “Japanese Clover Nipple Clamps: a type of adjustable nipple clamp that tightens as it is pulled, generally preferred because they won’t easily slip off. Green. K-9 roleplay: animal roleplay- Let me stop you there, bud. Red. Kidnapping? I think the fuck not. Kinbaku: kinbaku and kinbari, or shibari, is a Japanese style of bondage or BDSM which involves tying up the bottom using simple yet visually intricate patterns, usually with several pieces of thin rope. That sounds amazing.”

“It is a beautiful form of bondage, and very aesthetically pleasing, I must say.”

“Count me fucking in,” Frank smiled, lining it in green, “Kneeling? Yes. Knife play: a slow, methodical sensation of the bottom with the edges and points of knives, usually without cutting the skin, fear of the weapon plays a large part in the stimulus of the bottom. Yes. Knot: the easiest way to fasten rope in bondage. Captain obvious, I’m sure. Green. Lash: a strike from a whip, paddle, crop or flogger. Fuck yes. Latex Play: play which uses paint on latex. Ooh, that sounds fun. Green. Leather: one of the most popular of fetish materials, many get excited by the look and/or feel of leather clothing, boots, etc. Including me. Green.”

“I’m glad.” Gerard nodded, eyeing Frank with a smirk that the latter just couldn’t figure out, something in it had Frank’s stomach churning with anticipation.

“Lectures on misbehavior,” Frank bit his lip, “Yes, sir. Legcuffs: large handcuffs intended to be used to immobilize or restrict movement of the ankles, Yes. Leg Irons: steel ankle cuffs patterned after British prisoner restraints. How historically inclusive, I’m down. Licking: non-sexual. Yes, indeedio. Lingerie. Totally. Limits? Yes. Lorum: piercing through the skin on the underside of the penis. Nope, I got one.”

“Disgusting,” Gerard commented simply, making Frank snicker slightly and his cheeks flush.

“Lunge Whip: a whip used initially in training horses, never used directly on skin but more for the loud sound that is used to incur movement in tasks. Whoa..” Frank striped the option in green, “Maid: popular role-play where the submissive dresses up and acts like a maid. Yes. Maintenance: weekly spankings to cover the little things that might have been missed, remind the submissive to behave and allow the Dominant to release stress. Oh, my God. Yes. Malacca: a thick cane. That’s highly descriptive.”

“I have one over there.” Gerard pointed to the umbrella stand that stood by the door, a variety of harmless-looking canes lay within its confines, “The one with the silver handle.”

“Oh…” Frank whispered softly, staring at it before he forced himself to look away, sucking in a shaky breath, “Maledom: a male Dominant. Oof, y’know this list is giving me such hard strife and hard words to figure out, sir.”

“Don’t sass the contract.”

Frank let out a mischievous chuckle at that, looking up to see Gerard’s eyebrow raised despite the varied laughter in his eyes, obviously trying to keep a straight face as Frank bit on his index finger, “Fine. No sassing the contract.”

“Good boy.”

“Can I sass you?” Frank asked then and Gerard stopped what he was doing, closing his laptop slightly as he leaned over it.

“Try it and see.” Was all he said and Frank swallowed lightly, the four words dripping with hidden threats and sheer Dominant force that Frank instantly knew not to. He looked down, whimpering softly, “That’s what I thought.”

“Male Domination: BDSM play where a male is the one in control or who controls the submissive. Yes, obviously. Manacle: metal restraints. Yes. Manicures- Manicures?”

“Simple ones.” Gerard smiled, “I have upkeep on these hands, you know. Not ashamed of it either. A Dominant and a politician both have to keep up appearances, boy.”

“And- And I’m meant to do it for you? Listen, sir. I may be gay but…”

“It’s not difficult to do. I’ll show you sometime.” Gerard waved him off as Frank nodded, striping the option in green.

“Martinet: small flogger. A martinet is a short, scourge-like, multi-tail type of whip made of a wooden handle with lashes made of leather. Sounds good. Masochism: the act of receiving pain for sensual or sexual pleasure. Damn, you have no idea. Masochist: person who enjoys pain, usually sexually. Hello, me. Nice to see you again. Massages: giving and receiving. Well, sure, but I don’t know if I’m any good with that.”

“Well, that’s what sub-training is for.” Gerard smiled shortly, “I won’t just throw you in the deep end, boy.”

“Oh- Oh good, okay,” Frank nodded, “Master/slave: a consensual relationship in which one person receives control- the Master- when given it by another- The slave- for mutual benefit, an extreme form of D/s which usually involves a 24/7 relationship rather than a short period of time- a scene or perhaps a weekend. The slave will usually accept a collar from their Master to show that they are owned. I’m down for that. Medical Scene: BDSM scene involving medical scenarios. I am _not_ down for that.”

“Not complaining.”

“Mentor: a teacher or advisor who often shows a ‘newbie’ around the world of BDSM and D/s. That’s you, right, sir?” Frank looked up to see Gerard nodding, making Frank internally beam with pride at the thought, “Mousetraps: used as a BDSM device for nipple torture. A severe and painful, cheap nipple clamp. Um… Maybe. Mummification: immobilizing the body by wrapping it up, usually with multiple layers of tight thin plastic sheeting, breathing and other safety measures must be appropriately taken care of, often by leaving the face or at least the mouth and nose open. Body temperature, maintained to an extent by movement, may also be affected so a warm environment and warm aftercare may be important. Mummification is often used to enhance a feeling of total bodily helplessness, and incorporated with sensation play. Fuck, that sounds awesome. Green.”

“One of my favorites, actually.” Gerard yet again commented shortly as he looked over something on his desk and carried on typing.

“Then I’m definitely in, sir.” Frank smiled excitedly, “Munch: a group of people that are into BDSM meeting at a ‘vanilla’ place in street-appropriate attire. Okay, not gonna lie, that was a very misleading title to a definition.”

“How so?”

“I- I thought…” Frank frowned, “Well y’know, I saw the word and wondered what it was doing in here considering I’m a boy and I don’t have the… Y’know, the right body parts for that.” Frank went pink, “Thought it was like, a gross way of saying ‘eating pussy’, I guess.”

“I’m fairly certain that is a term for eating someone out but in this case, no,” Gerard replied simply, his blasé reply had Frank’s blush reddening as he hid his face from view with his contract.

“Nailing: BDSM play where the scrotum or breasts are nailed to a board,” Frank frowned before adding to it, “Also a term for 'fucking'.”

“It doesn’t say that last part.” Gerard frowned and Frank eyed him from atop the pages, wiggling his eyebrows at his boss, who merely shook his head and went back to work, “Mind you, it should.”

“This version of nailing is a 'no'. My version, however…” Frank trailed off as he striped it in red, “Nasogastric tube: used in control scenes such as forced feeding. Oh, my God, no. That’s terrible. Nasolingus: sexual arousal from nose sucking. Definitely not. Necrochlesis: sex with a corpse. Also a 'no' from me. Needle play: temporary piercings done with sterile needles of varying gauges, usually only for the duration of a scene. Hell, yes.”

“Also one of my favorites.” Gerard stated yet again and Frank bit his lip, “I’m glad you’re willing to try it.”

“Negotiation: discussing hard and soft limits and related items of BDSM taste before any play or relationship begins. It helps in defining Safe, Sane and Consensual between the dominant and submissive. Green. Newbie: someone new to something such as the BDSM play or lifestyle. Hello, it’s me again. How have you been, friend?” Frank muttered jokingly, striping green, “Nipple Clamps: devices that clamp onto the nipples, weights can be attached to stretch the nipples, nipple clamps often provide increased stimulation which can involve pain and pleasure. Green. Nipple Rings: Jewelry that looks like small hoop earrings that are inserted through pierced nipples. Another popular jewelry style for pierced nipples is the barbell. There also non-permanent nipple rings that stay attached by pinching the nipple. I’ve always wanted to pierce my nipples.”

“Perhaps you should.” Gerard offered up and Frank looked up at him with surprise, “Why not?”

“Well I… I don’t know why not.” Frank frowned, “I might maybe later on.”

“Who knows, if you behave, I may even do it myself.” Gerard shrugged, “I’ve done it many a time to my previous submissives, granted only as a temporary piercing in a scene, but it’s a simple enough piercing to do and if you have the jewelry you can always just replace the needle instead.”

“I- Whoa…” Frank muttered, “That’s… That’s awesome, sir.”

“Why, thank you, boy.” Gerard smiled slightly as he reached into a drawer and pulled out a stack of papers.

“Nipple Torture: to cause pain to the nipples, typically by using nipple clamps, needles, mousetraps, pulling and twisting, etc. Green. Nipple Shield: decorative nipple jewelry the encircles or even covers the nipple. Sounds dope, green. Nipple Weights: usually weights suspended from either nipple clamps or from nipple piercings. Can do. Nose torture: A traditionally Japanese form of BDSM often involving nose hooks. Maybe, I mean I’ve already got the one side pierced. Novice: a newbie. Ah, me. Nyotaimori: human sushi platters? Ah, that’d be so cool. Green. Hey, sir? You can eat your lunch off of me, if you want.”

“What if I decide to have hot soup?” Gerard asked then, raising his eyebrow as he stapled a few pages together.

“I have a belly button?” Frank offered back before he beamed oafishly, watching Gerard shake his head, “Oh, c’mon.”

“We’ll see, Frank. Carry on with your list, you’re almost done.”

“Oral Sex: sex involving contact between mouth and any other sexual organ. Definitely. Orgasm control. Yes. Orgasm denial? Yes. Orogastric Tube: a tube from the mouth to the stomach- No, fuck no. OTK: over the knee spanking. Oh, my… I, uh…” Frank went pink, looking up to see Gerard eyeing him for a second, only deepening the red hue on his face as he striped it twice in green and kept going, “Outdoor scenes? I don’t want twigs in my ass, next. Paddle: a flat instrument used for spanking purposes, usually made of wood or some other rigid material. Yes. Padlock: a common type of lock used in BDSM play, used to secure bondage restraints, securely fasten chain links together, as labia weights, etc. Labia weights- I- Wh- Like…”

“It is what you’re thinking of and, yes, it’s a thing.”

“Talk about wizard sleeves.” Frank pursed his lips in disgust, “Pain: pain causes the release of endorphins that is thought causes the submissive to go into subspace. Green. Pain Games: BDSM play involving pain. Yes, baby, yes. Painslut: A person who enjoys receiving a heavy degree of pain but may or may not necessarily enjoy submitting. Or did you mean ‘me’? Although, I do enjoy submitting.”

“What did I say about sassing the contract?”

“I-I was being… Cheeky.” Frank decided to go with, smiling shamelessly.

“Smartass.” Gerard muttered, “Don’t be so cocksure of yourself, boy. Audacity gets you a brazen and peg-clipping punishment. And don’t think I won’t just because you’re being cute with me.”

“I’m not being cute. I am cute.” Frank replied simply and Gerard pushed his chair back, making Frank yelp and curl up for cover, whimpering as he waited for a thorough smack to the head. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes to see Gerard leaning back in the chair with his arms folded, looking sanctimoniously over at his submissive.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Wh- You…” Frank looked at Gerard with a scowl, “That’s not nice.”

“I think you’ll come to find, boy… That _I’m_ not nice.” Gerard’s voice was firm and dark, the edge to it had Frank’s heart pick up a pace or two against his ribs, making his lungs ache. Frank looked down again, swallowing as he realized that perhaps Gerard was getting to him more than he should be, and he was currently nursing one of his most inopportune semis. He withheld the urge to groan as he adjusted his legs, hoping Gerard hadn’t noticed.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that.” Gerard commented as if on cue, “I’m well aware of what’s happening to you and, so far, you’re not behaving. I’m not going to do anything about it.”

Frank let out a whimper, frowning at the pages in his hand as he tried to will away the half a boner in his jeans with the marker clutched firmly in his hand, “Parachute Ball Stretcher: a toy resembling a parachute from which weights can be suspended in ball torture scenes. Ah, that ought to do it. Consider myself chub-free... Paraphilia: recurrent, intense, sexually arousing fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors generally involving non-human objects, the suffering or humiliation of oneself or one's partner, children, and non-consenting persons. Green for sure, for some of those at least. Permanent Piercing: piercing the body in order to insert the jewelry that is intended to be worn on at least a semi-permanent basis. Definitely.” He grinned, running his tongue over his teeth to purposely make his piercing clink against his teeth, “Phone sex. Oh, yes. Piss Play: watersports, golden showers. Count me in.”

Frank striped through his options, turning the page slowly when the first one already had him on edge. He instantly uncapped the yellow marker without hesitation.

“Play party: a BDSM event involving many people engaging in scenes. Ooh, I dunno. Yeah, ‘yellow’ here. Play Piercing: piercing the body temporarily, all piercings are removed at the end of the session. Sure, yeah. ProDom: male professional Dominant that charges money. No, thanks. Prince Albert: a male piercing between the urethra and the underside of the penis. Not named after the Prince of Monaco,” Frank started giggling profusely, “I love that they had to specify that, like the Prince of Monaco would get butthurt about having a piercing after him. I’d be stoked. Although... Yeah, I’m not really a prince.”

“Who says?” Gerard then queried after a bout of silence, his question making Frank look up in surprise, “No one said you’re not.”

“I mean, officially I’m not a prince, not like that.” Frank waved a hand dismissively, striping the piercing in red.

“Well, maybe not like that, but you are to me, boy. I may be the Dominant and hold a power over you but that by no means lessens your worth.” Gerard expressed firmly and Frank could have sworn he felt his organs melt into a mess of goo at the words spoken directly at him.

“Y- I- You mean that?” He asked, barely being able to find his voice as it shook.

“I have no reason not to, boy.” Gerard smiled slightly, “You and I are in a relationship now and I treat you with respect when not in scene. It’s you who has to earn it physically, but in my heart, it’s there.”

“I-” Frank looked down, his mouth pricking in the corners as his eyes filled with sudden and unnecessary tears that had him look down, trying to sniff as quietly as possible as he pushed back his tears, his heart practically about to explode in his chest, “Thank you, sir.”

“And I mean it, Frank.” Gerard continued his proclamation, “I think very highly of you. I don’t have just anyone in my sheets or on my mind.”

  
“I-” Frank frowned when he found himself at a loss for words, realizing that he was unable to say anything back. Yes, he knew Gerard felt that way, he had outright stated it but Frank was frozen and unable to reciprocate. He couldn’t bring it to himself to say anything back before he set the contract down and ran out of the office, the tears running down his cheeks in a torrent of fear and inordinate amounts of shock.

He ran into the spare room he had slept in the first night he was here and shut the door, leaning up against it as he hyperventilated, trying to counteract the panic attack that had hit him too quickly and without warning. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he didn’t warrant Gerard saying the things he did so quickly, he hadn’t expected it and he knew Gerard wouldn’t want him to say any of it back if he didn’t mean it. And Frank knew he was overreacting. Gerard hadn’t dropped the L-bomb on him, he had simply told Frank that he cared about him. Frank let out a small whimper as he slid down the door onto his ass, shaking slightly as his mind went over everything that had happened in the span of a few minutes.

He hoped that Gerard wouldn’t be mad at him for bailing suddenly, he hoped he hadn’t spilled something or broken something in his haste to get out of the all-too-stuffy office where his about-to-be Dominant but already-partner was seated. Frank was aware that their contract had officially been put in place on the day he signed it, he was aware that it had been two days since then so, in actuality, Gerard was already his Dominant. He knew Gerard was taking it slow with him considering he had never done this before and he was beyond grateful.

But now, now all he could do was think about how badly and inadvertently Ryan had fucked him up. Frank was so haunted and broken by his ex that he could barely tell his new lover that he cared about him, nothing too huge to say, and not even a lie. It just wouldn’t come out. Frank had bared all with Ryan and made sure that Ryan knew his every feeling and look where it had gotten him, he was so afraid to tell Gerard how he felt for fear of the same thing. And it was irrational, Frank knew this to be true, he knew Ryan and Gerard were like fire and ice, two completely different people, but that’s what insecure fears of the mind are… Irrational.

“Frank?”

“How did you-?” Frank jumped, looking up to see Gerard standing nearby, his eyes going to the ajar door beside his Master, “Where?”

“En-suite bathroom goes into the hallway.” Gerard whispered softly before carefully taking a step forward, “What happened, boy?”

“I-I got scared and stupid…” Frank admitted, “And I just…”

“Was it what I said?”

“Would you be angry if I said ‘yes’?” Frank asked gingerly and looked up to see Gerard crouch down beside him, still keeping a small distance between them just in case, a caring precaution.

“Of course not. I didn’t know you would react that way. I thought what I said would be a comfort to you.” Gerard pursed his lips, the perfect show of sympathy that Frank found sickly sweet.

“It- It was.” Frank wiped a stray tear as he sniffed, leaning his head back against the door, “I just… I didn’t realize that, subconsciously, I’d gone without it for so long, or- Maybe that’s harsh. I know Ryan cared but… Not in the way I needed. He’d always make sure I looked okay or that I was doing okay in my job, never really making sure that I was emotionally okay or if I needed any sort of affection.”

“I see…”

“I guess, it was just unexpected and I felt so obligated to say something back and when I tried I-I realized that I just… I couldn’t. I was so afraid that you’d throw it in my face or that I’d get hurt again. And not in the way I want to be with you.” Frank looked down, fidgeting his hands in his lap, “And I know it’s not true but I can’t help it. I loved him.”

“I understand that.” Gerard began as he went from his crouched position onto his knees, “And that’s okay. I’m not expecting anything until you’re okay with it. There’s a rule of thumb that states that the amount of time you need to get over a previous lover is half the time you were together.”

“Th-Three years?” Frank sputtered, “Th- I can’t do that.”

“No one said you have to, but that’s just your leeway period. I’m a patient man, Frank.” Gerard shrugged, “If you need three years then take it.”

“I just… I hate how he affects me still, after all this. What if I never get over him? That’ll tear us apart. I can’t have him affect my relationship with you. I won’t let him.” Frank frowned angrily, scowling in annoyance at the man who wasn’t even here.

“We’ll work this out, okay?” Gerard carefully put his hand on Frank’s shoulder, “Why don’t you recollect yourself and then meet me in my room, hmm? We can go over the last few parts of your contract and then do whatever you want.”

“You’re being nice to me again.” Frank managed a laugh, looking up to see the small smile on Gerard’s face.

“Shouldn’t I be? I can be mean.” Gerard offered as he stood up with more practiced agility than Frank had in his entire body.

“I have no doubt.” Frank muttered as he took Gerard’s extended hand and used it to help himself up, going to let go when Gerard merely reeled him in, “Whoa.”

Frank could feel the silent vibration of a soft chuckle go through Gerard as he was being held against him. The warmth soothing his mental turbulence as he cautiously wrapped his arms around Gerard for the first time, embracing him nervously.

“There, not so bad.” Gerard whispered, his lips pressed against the top of Frank’s head, the comforting reminder that Frank had grown to know as of late, “Better?”

“Y-Yeah…” Frank muttered as he closed his eyes.

“Good.” Gerard began to slowly let go and Frank reluctantly did the same, sniffing softly as Gerard held his shoulders, “You take a minute, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank sighed out a long breath before looking up, “Thank you.”

Gerard ran his hand softly over Frank’s cheek before it dropped and he turned, walking out of the door he had come through, leaving Frank alone with his cheek tingling at the cool touch to his red hot, tear-stained cheek.

“Fuck.” Frank muttered softly to himself, running his hands over his face once or twice before he turned a full 360, taking in his surroundings to ease his anxiety, “Fucking idiot.”


	39. You’re So Mushy When You Wanna Be

After Frank had taken a minute or so to calm himself down, he wandered back out of the room and down the hallway, stopping at Gerard’s door before he pushed it open and peered in, looking around when he caught sight of Gerard standing by his wardrobe, back to the door, “Sir?”

“Yes, boy?” Gerard asked as he turned to look at Frank who had now carefully walked into the bedroom, hands clasped in front of him awkwardly.

“Just ‘thanks’…” Frank muttered, pursing his lips as he nervously ran his tongue stud over the roof of his mouth, “Thanks.”

“You just get yourself comfortable on the bed, boy.” Gerard gestured to the large mattress that Frank found so inviting and yet so foreboding at the same time, “I brought your papers and markers with me. We’ll get it done and dusted in no time, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, okay.” Frank nodded, telling both Gerard and himself of this fact, he was determined to get it finished now or never. And hopefully the former. Frank looked at Gerard’s bed with sudden nerves creeping in his stomach, he had barely been in Gerard’s room as it was, seeing it maybe twice in his life, stepping into it once and now here he was. Finally being able to get a look at it with its hardwood floors and the soft-looking beige carpet that stood stuck-out from under the bed.

Oh, the bed was just what Frank expected, dark hardwood four-poster that looked so sturdy but so old, the postered columns in that old-style of rounded varying widths as they went up to a point a few feet up. The bed was high, the white and beige filigree sheets tucked in meticulously with the matching pillows, a dark red throw in the softest fabric was draped haphazardly across the bottom with two small red cushions that matched it. The bed was sat between two end tables in the same wood with tiny drawers situated all over it. There were two tall white, vintage-looking lamps with dark stands as well, a small potted plant on either table to add more color. In the corner of the room sat a large, red velvet armchair that Frank was dying to sit in and curl up under the white, fluffy throw Gerard had artistically placed over it.

The other corner where Gerard was had a large and expansive built-in closet, the doors in the same dark wood, a lengthy mirror down the side of the wall beside it, a tall ficus plant stood on the opposite end in a red pot. The room was exactly what Frank had envisioned when he had first seen it upon arrival, but it was so much more beautiful once he stood in it.

“Frank?”

“Huh- What? Shit, sorry. Pardon?” Frank stuttered, Gerard’s voice pulling him from his daze completely, making him turn slightly to look at Gerard who had gotten undressed and dressed in the time it took Frank to inspect Gerard’s room. He was now in a simple lilac Beatles t-shirt and a pair of black boxers to mid-thigh. Frank cursed himself internally that he had missed Gerard getting dressed but he pushed it aside.

“You drifted for a moment,” Gerard commented as he wandered over and lay himself on the bed, propping himself up on his elbow on his side.

“Right…” Frank muttered softly as he shook his head, walking over as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, tugging them off before haphazardly folding them over his arm and setting them down on the floor, keeping his old and moth-holed black Golden Girls sweatshirt on that he had snagged from Goodwill over five years before. Frank tugged at the bottom of it slightly before he carefully lifted himself up, not quite realizing how high Gerard’s bed was, the top of the mattress hitting him hip-high thanks to the thick mattress and the lengthy legs of the bed.

“Good boy.” Gerard smiled, crossing his one leg over the other at the ankles when Frank grabbed his contract and the markers and rolled onto his stomach, opening to the right page as he swung his legs up behind him lazily.

“Right.” Frank exhaled slowly, “Press Style Nipple Clamps: these are nipple clamps that press the nipple between two pieces of metal usually forced together by a thumbscrew. The thumbscrew allows them to be squeezed tight or just enough to stay in place. Fair enough. Green. Prison scenes: the submissive being the prisoner and the Dominant plays the warden in the scene, varying forms of unfair treatment. Sure. Public exposure? No. Punishment scenes. Yes. Pup-play: sub is made to act like a puppy. Sub barks, whines, eats from a bowl, etc. Such play is sexual but also focuses on the altered mind-space of bottom/pup and the complete dominance of his/her Trainer/Master. Perhaps the most popular of animal RPGs. Here, the submissive actually mimics a puppy. Sometimes it can evolve into a lifestyle where the 'puppy' even sleeps in a cage. Oh, for God's sake. Are you hinting?”

“I swear, I’m not.” Gerard chuckled and Frank narrowed his eyes at his partner, scrutinizing his amused expression, “I’m really not. I told you a lot of things are repeated because there are varying terms for it.”

“Fine.” Frank looked back, lining it all in red, “Pushy Bottom: old school phrase for a very demanding bottom, associated with Topping from the bottom. A-ha, green. Quirt: a type of buggy-whip used for whipping the submissive, easier and safer to use than a bullwhip. Alright, I can dig it. RPG: abbreviation for Role Play Games. Green. Rack: Bondage furniture patterned after the infamous torture device of the Inquisition, the bottom is put on it and ‘stretched’ but not in the extreme fatal way. Whoa, I like that. Green. RACK: Risk Aware Consensual Kink. Well yes, green. Rape fantasy, ravishment. Oof, fuck me up with that. Real Life or Real-Time, r/l or r/t: as opposed to virtual or cyber life. Okay, green, I guess. Red: Most common safe word meaning ‘stop’. I’ve seen this, I don’t understand it.”

“What, boy?”

“The whole 'red' thing.” Frank frowned, “I don’t get it.”

“Oh.” Gerard turned back onto his side and looked at Frank, “It’s called the 'Light System' and it’s used as a way of expressing yourself in the scene. So, if the Dominant starts doing something you’ve got concerns with, you give them a ‘yellow’ and if they do something you’re not okay with, you give them a ‘red’. Like a traffic light. Green is hardly ever used unless it’s for confirmation that they’re doing something good.”

“Why don’t we use that?” Frank’s frown deepened and Gerard shrugged.

“It’s your choice but I always found it so impersonal, I’d rather have a word and signal that we could share instead.” Gerard pursed his lips before continuing, “But, if you’d prefer using the light system-”

“No- No, I was just curious. I’m good with our safe signals.” Frank reassured, “They’re good.”

“Good.” Gerard sighed softly, “Good.” He smiled as he absentmindedly began running his hand over Frank's back, stroking slowly and affectionately in small circles. Frank sputtered at the touch, realizing just how much a simple touch could affect him.

“R- Uh, religious scenes? What, like Catholic schoolboys and priests?” Frank asked with a chuckle as he highlighted it in green, shifting slightly closer toward Gerard, “Brilliant. Restraint: limiting the bottom’s movement with the use of various bondage gear, equipment or devices. Yes. Restriction: limiting the bottom’s behavior or physical movement. Yes. Riding Crop: a firm, leather tipped crop used for hardened whipping. Yes, please. Riding the Horse: A wooden horse, or cavaletto squarciapalle, is a torture device, of which there exist two variations both inflict pain by using the subject's own weight by keeping the legs open, tied with ropes from above, while lowering down the submissive. The French called this instrument the Chevalet, from the French diminutive of cheval, horse. That sounds painful as fuck. I’m down.”

“No great shocker there,” Gerard commented casually and Frank shot him a playful scowl as he slid the green marker over the line.

“Rimming: tongue contact with the rectum or asshole. You bet. Ring Gag: a device that keeps the submissive’s mouth wide open. Also called a ‘piss gag’. Excellent. Rituals and Protocol: A protocol is any defined, enforced code of behavior, and or rituals whether it be within the confines of a particular group, community, or other interpersonal dynamics. In this case, the Dominant will set out rules and regulations of rituals that need to be done on a daily or weekly schedule. Okay. Do we have this?”

“I do. Those are the ones we spoke about at breakfast.” Gerard smiled reassuringly, “Your sub training.”

“Okay.” Frank lined it in green, “Role Play Games: taking fantasy roles in BDSM scenes, for example, nurse or doctor/patient, etc. Green, as long as there’s no doctors.”

“Duly noted.”

“Rope: the most common of bondage equipment. Then green it is. Rubber: after leather, the most popular fetish material. I can see why. Green. Sadism: the act of inflicting pain. Yes. Sadist: A person who enjoys inflicting pain, usually sexually. Oh look, sir. It’s you.”

“Well, indeed it is, well spotted,” Gerard replied with a small and fleeting smile. His fingers skillfully sliding up underneath Frank's shirt to trickle touches over Frank's spine slowly. Frank paused, reveling in the touch and how it sent butterfly waves down to his thighs.

  
“Um. S-Sadomasochism: the perversion of taking pleasure, especially sexual gratification from simultaneous sadism and masochism. Green. Safe, sane and consensual: a popular slogan in the BDSM world meaning that play should always be safe, with good judgment exercised. And, most importantly, it must be consensual. Green, I like that. Safeword: a word or phrase a submissive can use to stop his or her scene. It is absolute. If a Dominant disregards a submissive’s safe word, that Dominant is considered ‘unsafe.’ The most common safe word is ‘Red’. Some also use a caution word such as ‘Yellow’ to signify that the dominant is approaching a limit. Oh, I see.”

“As I said.”

“As you did.” Frank smiled, “Such a good mentor, sir.”

“Oh, I’m getting praise now, is it?” Gerard asked jokingly, “Are you the Dominant now?”

“Well, no, I highly doubt that but, I mean, why not?” Frank smiled brightly, “What if you do something good? Why don’t you deserve to know it was well-received?”

“Such a thoughtful heart in you, boy.” Gerard reached up, the back of his finger casually brushing Frank’s hip, “It’s a rarity in this day and age, and it’s quite suited on you.”

“You’re so mushy when you wanna be.” Frank felt himself go pink, leaning into the touch as he looked at Gerard.

“It’s the romantic French side in me, it comes out every now and again in the most inopportune moments.” Gerard smiled slightly, “Whenever it sees fit, whether I like it or not.”

“Well, it’s quite suited on you, too.” Frank smiled before he turned back to his contract, “Safe Sex: using condoms and taking all necessary health precautions during sex. Green. Saint Andrew’s Cross: a popular piece of BDSM furniture where a submissive can be conveniently tied or cuffed to it and rendered immobile. That sounds wicked, actually. I’m in. SAM: Smart Assed Masochist, a pseudo submissive who attempts to control everything the dominant does. Eh, I don’t think I’m like that.”

“You’re smart-assed, yes. But you’re very submissive, so that specific term isn’t for you.” Gerard informed as Frank striped it in yellow.

“Saran Wrap: a brand of cling film used in mummification scenes. Green. Scarification: scarification is a form of body modification in which individuals scar or brand themselves by scratching, etching, cutting, or burning designs into their skin. Uh, I’ll go with 'maybe'. Scratching: giving. I’m definitely a scratcher. Scratching: getting. I won’t say 'no', obviously. Scat play: feces play. Fuck, no. School Role-play: popular RPG wherein the submissive is the ‘bad schoolboy’ and the Dominant is the ‘teacher’. Oof, fuck me up. Scene: a time period of BDSM activities also used to refer to the BDSM community ‘the acene’. Sure, sure.”

“So nonchalant.” Gerard stifled a yawn and Frank giggled lightly, toying his tongue ring over the bottom of his teeth slowly as he markered away.

“Self-Bondage: the practice of performing bondage on oneself by oneself. I- Oh.”

“What?” Gerard frowned and Frank felt himself going bright crimson in the face as the memory came screaming back to him, making him bury his face in his arms and a small groan leave him, “Frank?”

“Nooo…” Frank whined as Gerard put a hand on his arm, “No, don’t. I’m hiding in shame.”

“Frank, what in God’s name?” Gerard began prying Frank from his own limbs with more force than Frank anticipated, fingers digging into his flesh so hard that he eventually succumbed, letting Gerard break him, his face reappearing, “What’s gotten into you, boy?”

“I have a confession,” Frank admitted with a small groan.

“Is this an ‘I have a sneaky chocolate before bed’ confession or an ‘I’m married to a goat’ confession?” Gerard raised an eyebrow and Frank thought for a moment, looking up and realizing just how easily Gerard had rolled him over, leaning over him with his hands still holding Frank’s arms down on the bed, the contract under Frank’s head.

“This is in the middle.” Frank finally announced, “Like… Okay, so a thing happened a couple of days ago that might fall under the category we just discussed, and I didn’t even remember it until now, and I feel such shame for it but I don’t at the same time.”

“What? Did you do something?”

“Well, I- Okay, after we slept together I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me and what we had was just a pity fuck. And it fucking hurt like a bitch, to be honest. And I thought that would be the end of my sex life for a while, so I decided to do something about it, something for myself.” Frank explained, squeezing his eyes shut, “So I-I went on my lunch break and bought myself a toy of sorts.”

“Frank Iero, I'm well aware of your dildo,” Gerard stated outright, making Frank groan and try and squirm out of his grasp when he remembered that Gerard had previously found Felix.

“You fucking know I used it.” Frank scowled ruefully as the color returned to his cheeks as he remembered the humiliation.

“By the way, was that in the nondescript black packet under your desk? I just thought you bought some knock-off shoes. I didn’t think you had it in you, boy. I’m impressed. Have you properly used it by the way?”

“Well, see…” Frank began, “That’s the thing. I-I have. Twice. On the same day.”

“The same day?” Gerard seemed surprised.

“The first one was purely your fault, I’ll have you know.” Frank scowled, “You and your dark teal suit, and I had just come down from realizing we’d fucked and it had opened so many things for me, what with me bottoming, and I couldn’t shake you in my head so I…” Frank paused, his head suddenly in conflict whether or not he should tell Gerard both of the times he had used his new toy, the first time at work no less. He suddenly realized that he’d probably get in so much shit for that and should most likely leave it out.

“Yes…?” Gerard pried curiously.

“I took it with me and I- Well I-...” Frank let out a groan, “It’s your fault with the way you grabbed me. I was so hard and I really couldn’t help myself from wanting you that night after work. And when you grabbed me and told me off, it- it was something I hadn’t expected to like. And I tried so hard to just be normal when I was jerking off but it wasn’t enough so I ended up…” Frank cleared his throat, “Trying to get the same feeling of you.”

“How so?”

“Tied myself up with a belt.” Frank whispered, the blush that had somewhat subsided now reared its head, coating his face in an even ruddier hue than before, “Bound my wrists up as best I could and I- I couldn’t move the dildo like I wanted so I stuck it to something and y’know.”

“You rode it, didn’t you?” Gerard asked, the words falling so heatedly but so calmly from his mouth as though it were a mere conversation about the weather. Frank did not feel the same just yet and despite his best efforts he still couldn’t shake his shyness, “You did.”

“I did, I stuck it to the side of the wardrobe and sat on the top of the vanity table.” Frank screwed his eyes shut, unable to look at Gerard as the shame clouded over him, “Couldn’t help it. You were all I could think of.”

“What I wouldn’t give to see that.” Gerard sighed softly and Frank tried to squirm again, desperately trying to hide his face, “It’s no use, boy. I’ve got you down, now.”

Frank let out a whimper, scowling, “I have to finish my contract.”

“Is that the only reason you want to get away?”

“Yes.” Frank lied, feeling Gerard’s grip slacken before he moved away, pulling the pages out from under Frank’s head, the latter opening his eyes to see Gerard examining it.

“So, boy. How about serving as art?” Gerard looked up from the contract and Frank nodded, watching Gerard light it green with the marker, “Furniture, I’m sure you’ve said 'yes'.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Serving as a maid, you’ve agreed to. Serving as a waiter?”

“Yes.”

  
“Serving orally in a sexual manner?” Gerard looked up with a smirk and Frank let out a groan, “Green, Shackles: metal or leather bondage restraint device consisting of round cuffs joined by a chain or bar?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Sensation play: BDSM play where the intent is to push people's sensory limits, thus exploring texture, sensory deprival, through to whips, flagellation, and edgeplay?”

“Just…” Frank sighed, “Yes.”

“Alright,” Gerard greened it as well, “Service-oriented submission: a person who enjoys performing a service in a sexual or BDSM environment?”

“Green.”

“Excellent. Shoe Fetish: one who enjoys shoes, a popular fetish, even in the vanilla world.” Gerard looked up and Frank gave a nod, “Skinny dipping?”

“Never done it.” Frank shrugged, “But I’d like to.”

“We will someday.” Gerard smiled, “Slapper: a rigged paddle modified to make a loud sound.”

“Green.”

“Slave: a term used interchangeably with ‘submissive’, some consider a slave a more extreme version of a submissive?”

“Ugh. It's so inappropriate. I dunno. Yellow.”

“Slave Contract: a signed consensual contract, wherein a submissive or slave cedes to the Dom or Master a specified set of powers over her for a set period of time although legally unenforceable, it is still a powerful document between dominant and slave.”

“Lime.” Frank sighed, now deciding to turn it into a game to see how many shades of red, yellow, and green he knew.

“Sleep deprivation?”

“Olive.”

“Olive is technically both categorized as a yellow and a green, pup.”

“Green.”

Gerard smiled, “Sleepsacks: Sleepsacks are a type of bondage BDSM gear, sleepsacks are primarily used to confine a person comfortably for an extended period of time similar to a conventional sleeping bag, a person climbs into a sleepsack and is usually zipped into it up to their neck.”

“Forest.”

“Slutty clothing?”

Frank pursed his lips, “I don't like that term. What constitutes a 'slut' anyway? It's a societal pressure to make people feel like shit."

"I didn't choose it. I don't judge people on how they want to dress in their free time. Or how many people they choose with whom to sleep." Gerard corrected, "It is still a lifestyle term, boy."

"Fine. Mint.”

“Sound: Medical device to be inserted into the urethra in medical play, also called urethral sounds?”

“Oh, uh… Crimson.”

“Are you having fun?” Gerard asked and Frank nodded, smiling as he stared up at the ceiling, putting a hand under his head, “S&M: Sadism and masochism. One who enjoys administering pain and one who enjoys receiving pain.”

“Teal. Wait, that’s a green right?”

“It is,” Gerard affirmed as he used the marker on the line in question, "Snowballing?"

"And that is…?"

"Oh, dear boy. So innocent." Gerard smirked as he reached down to run a thumb over Frank's bottom lip, "Snowballing or snowdropping is the sexual practice in which one person takes someone's semen into their mouth and then passes it to the mouth of another, either by kissing or spitting."

"I- Fucking hell." Frank's entire face erupted into a rosy pink, his eyes widening, "I never knew that was… I mean…"

"What do you think?"

"Green."

Gerard chuckled at Frank's whispered response, streaking the line in green before he set it down and pulled Frank closer. He leaned over him, smiling wickedly, "Oh, really? You'd be okay with snowballing, boy?"

"I-I would, sir."

Gerard leaned in, kissing Frank chastely on the forehead before he locked eyes with him, "I look forward to it, boy. Yours or mine." He picked up the pages again, hearing Frank whine at the lack of contact, “Spandex?”

“Viridian.”

“Oh, we’re getting fancy now, I see,” Gerard muttered, using the green marker, “Spanking: to slap on the buttocks with the open hand, or a short flat object such as a paddle or a hairbrush. Used as both punishment and/or in role-play context in BDSM scenes?”

“Shit, uh…” Frank frowned, wracking his brain, “Damn it.”

“You’re looking for 'Jade', I believe.”

“That’s the one.” Frank smiled, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Gerard cleared his throat, “Spanking Bench: BDSM furniture, a variation on the sawhorse, onto which a submissive is attached by cuffs, rope, etc. for the Dominant to spank and play with?”

“Citrine.” Frank grinned, hearing Gerard ‘hmm’ in approval, obviously impressed.

“Speculum: a medical device intended for opening and examining the rectum or vagina; used mostly in ‘doctor/medical scene’ play?”

“Scarlet.”

“Speech restrictions?”

“Uh… Acid green? Can I use that?"

“I’ll allow it,” Gerard replied simply, “Spencer Paddle: type of wooden paddle with holes drilled through it?”

“Sage.”

“Spreader Bar: A long metal rod that holds the submissive legs, thighs or even wrists wide apart?”

“Isn’t 'Sap' a shade of green?”

“It is, boy.” Gerard chuckled, “'Sap' it is. Soft Limits?”

“I’m running out of green.” Frank muttered with disapproval, “Fuck. Uh. I’m making shit up now. Slytherin green.”

“Alright.” Gerard chuckled, “Standing in the corner: a form of punishment?”

“Turquoise? That’s greenish, I think.”

“Sure.” Gerard muttered, turning the page over to the next one, “Almost done. Stocks: a piece of bondage furniture patterned after the Puritan model, the head and hands go through holes while the submissive is standing?”

“Uh… Army green? Khaki? What’s it called? That ugly one.”

“Both are acceptable,” Gerard smiled, “Straightjacket: confining device used mostly in psychiatric wards to restrain the violent and mentally unwell, it is intended to prevent the movement of the arms and is usually impossible to remove without assistance?”

“Um… Lemon?”

“Yellow, it is,” Gerard muttered, “Strangling?”

“Chartreuse.”

“Excellent choice, boy. Although, also, chartreuse can be either yellow or green depending on the shade; I knew what you meant.” Gerard smiled, striking with green, “Strapon: a belt or harness that has a dildo attached. It allows the wearer the ability to fuck another either in the vagina or anus?”

“Garnet.” Frank nodded, “That’s red, yeah?”

“And also the birthstone for January.” Gerard added in nonchalantly as he uncapped the red marker and swiped it across the line, “Strapping: Another term for a beating?”

“Sea? Sea green?” Frank scrunched up his nose, “We keep this up I’m gonna have to start naming green stuff.”

“Up to you, boy.” Gerard replied idly, “Subdrop: a physical condition, often with cold- or flu-like symptoms, experienced by a submissive after an intense session of BDSM play, this can last for as long as a week, and is best prevented by aftercare immediately after the session.”

“Whoa, really?” Frank turned away from the ceiling to Gerard, “That’s insane.”

“It’s great physical stress on your body, Frank. What did you expect?” Gerard frowned, “What do you say?”

“Well, uh… If we’re on birthstones then, I said 'emerald'. What’s that other one? Peridot, was it?”

“That’s the one.” Gerard smiled, marking it green, “Submission: the act of submitting to the will and desire of another, usually within negotiated limits?”

“Uh…” Frank pursed his lips, “Dunno much about other stones and shit. Damn.”

“Many stones come in green shades.” Gerard commented, striking the line in green yet again, “Actinolite, malachite, opal, agate…”

“You know everything, don’t you?” Frank asked sarcastically, seeing an almost pink blush to Gerard’s cheeks that could have been a trick of the light as he moved slightly.

“I know enough about many things.” Gerard’s answer was cryptic, “Submissive, or sub for short: a person that gives up control either all the time or for a specified period, not to be confused with bottom or slave?”

“Green.” Frank sighed, “Dunno enough green things.”

“You did well, though.” Gerard smiled encouragingly, “Very well. Subspace: a ‘natural high’ that a sub or bottom gets during a scene or when being controlled, the sub may feel disconnected from time, space, and/or their body, and may have limited ability to communicate. It is critical that a Dom or top take responsibility for the sub/bottom and be aware of their sub's well being if they are in subspace.”

“That sounds awesome.” Frank muttered, “Green. And, uh…”

“Yes?”

“Can- Can I do some?” Frank asked, “If- If I do, then… Can- Can you hold me like you were before?”

“Of course.” Gerard smiled as he handed everything back to Frank, who rolled back onto his stomach, taking the contract back as Gerard slid closer and draped an arm over Frank’s lower back.

“Supplying Dom with partners? Yeah, definitely not. Crimson. Surface Burn: a temporary brand, usually produced with copper wire, heated less hot than steel, used in making a permanent brand. Yes. Surface Piercing: temporary piercing through the skin’s surface. Yes. Suspension: suspending a submissive with ropes, webbing, or chain so that no part of the body touches the floor. Not recommended for beginners. Oh, definitely. Suspension upright? Yes. Suspension inverted? Yes. Swallowing? Well, I mean, why wouldn’t you?”

“It’s a judgment call.”

“Yeah, for pussies.” Frank snorted, “Swapping: with another person. Fuck that. Swinging: with another couple. Yellow. Switch: someone who likes being both top and bottom, either in one scene or on different occasions. Could do, yeah. Yellow. Taken in hand: 24/7 Male dominance in monogamous marriage, with or without BDSM aspects. That’s cute. Green. Tattooing. Green. Tease and denial. Oh, God, yes.”

“Keeping that in mind.” Gerard muttered, giving Frank’s hip a light squeeze, making his stomach jump.

“TENS Unit: acronym for Trans...cutaneous Electrical Neural Stimulation unit, used for sexual stimulation is electrical play scenes, known as a violet wand. It's a 'no' from me, dog. Temporary Piercing: piercing the body temporarily. Yes. Thermolysis: a form of electrical hair removal. A-no. Thong Whip: a whip made of thin strands of either leather or rubber, when swung lightly it will not cause much pain, when swung hard it can cause considerable pain. Fuck, yes. Tickling- oh, Lord. Yes, but no. Yes. No. Maybe. Yellow.”

“Watch yourself,” Gerard smiled coyly, his fingertips grazing over Frank’s hip, making him jerk and cackle suddenly, wriggling from Gerard’s grip, “I have no issues tickling you, boy.”

“Definitely yellow,” Frank huffed, “TNG: The Next Generation, a tag commonly used by groups and organizations which cater to younger people involved in BDSM, typically ages 18–35. Ah, you just missed the cut. You’re a whole Bondage-generation older than me.”

“Don’t remind me.” Gerard frowned, “It just means I know what I’m doing.”

“Silver lining to your silver hair.” Frank snickered, earning a sudden slap to the side of the hip that had him yelp in surprise, the light pain resonating under his skin, “I- Uh…”

“You were saying?”

“Top: a Dominant partner,” Frank cleared his throat, “Is this 'do I want one' or 'do I want to be one'?”

“Want one.” Gerard clarified and Frank nodded, lining it in green.

“Topping from the bottom: this is where a submissive dictates the action in a scene, something that is highly frowned upon, can also be used in real-time context when a submissive becomes too demanding. Uh… Maybe? I guess I could try. TPE or Total power exchange: a relationship where the Dominant or owner has complete authority and influence over the submissive's life, making the majority of decisions. Yes, please. Training? Sí. Tragus: piercing through the ridge on the face side of the ear hole. Uh, no. Transgender: Not quite male, not quite female. That is offensive even to me.”

“They don’t mean it in a gendered way like if one is actually and physically transgender. They mean it purely for a scene. Look at the next term on the list.” Gerard gestured with a wave towards the list before putting his arm back over Frank.

“Transgenderism: incorporating manners, behaviors, appearance, etc of the opposite sex while still maintaining some of the above of your biological sex when in a scene. Oh… Uh… Red to both of those.” Frank cleared his throat, “Triple penetration. Wh-?

“Something in your ass, another in your mouth, and the last thing in your dick.” Gerard shrugged and Frank’s eyes widened before he scratched the line out with yellow.

“Tweezer Nipple Clamps: A style of nipple clamp that is like a pair of tweezers with a ring around the outside. As you push the ring toward the pincher ends, it causes the clamp to tighten or bite. Yellow. Uniforms. Green. Urethral Play: play involving the urethra, the tube that runs between the bladder and the outside of the body. Not for beginners. And not for me. Urethral Sound: medical device to be inserted into the urethra in medical play. No. Vacuum Pumping: Using the suction of a vacuum to increase the size of body parts. No. Vampirism: sexual arousal caused by drinking blood. Red. Verbal humiliation. Oh, God, every shade of green.”

“Oh, really?”

“You have no idea,” Frank shuddered lightly at the thought, feeling it resonate almost as much as the slap had done, “Vibrators? Yes. Videoing? Yes. Violet Wand: An electronic device usually in the form of a glass cylinder, which uses the effect of high-frequency electric charges to apply intense stimulation. Nope. Vanilla- ha. Okay, sure, yeah. Warm up: the period at the beginning of a BDSM scene which involves gentle play, allowing the bottom to begin endorphin production, enter subspace, and undergo physiological changes such as bringing fluids to the surface before impact play that will accommodate more intense play. Green. Water Sports: the sexual enjoyment of urine play, also called Golden Showers or GS. Also called Frank-likey.”

“Such a wonder….” Gerard repeated simply as Frank marked his options accordingly.

“Water torture? Yeah. Wattenburg Wheel: a medical pinwheel that is commonly used in BDSM play to stimulate or cause a feeling sensation. Yes. Wax play? Fuck, yeah. Waxing? Maybe. Wearing symbolic jewelry? Symbolic of what?”

“Like of our relationship for one,” Gerard offered up, “Or of the lifestyle. Pendants and such. Like I do.”

“What?” Frank frowned and Gerard lifted up a simple leather bracelet around his wrist with a round metal symbol in the middle of it, the symbol similar to that of a Yin-Yang with only three pieces to it instead of two, “What’s that mean?”

“It’s the BDSM lifestyle symbol.” Gerard smiled, “Lindsey had it made for me.”

“It’s really cool.” Frank smiled, looking at the symbol for a moment, “I’d wear something like that, yeah.”

“Good to know, boy.” Gerard gave his hip another squeeze, “Looks like you’re almost done, too.”

“Not gonna lie, I’m a little relieved.” Frank chuckled dryly, “Web: a bondage device, popular in many dungeons, created with ropes that are spun like a spider’s web. Yes. Weights: used to stretch body parts such as nipples and labia; usually attached to clamps or piercings. Oof- fuck. Sounds painful, but I’m in. Whip: usually made of leather with a medium-size handle and long braided leather strings. Yes. Whipping Post: in olden times, a post to which offenders were fastened for whippings, reproductions are sometimes used in BDSM dungeons. Count me down for that. Wooden paddles. And, yes.”

Frank dropped the marker, sighing in relief as he turned to look at Gerard, beaming with pride as a sense of completion came over him.

“Look at you.” Gerard chuckled.

“Ah- I fucking did it.” Frank grinned happily, “Awesome.”

“How about as a celebration of you fucking doing it,” Gerard merely pushed Frank right over onto his back, pinning him down as he had before, “I fucking do you instead?”

“Only if you promise me one thing.” Frank grinned up at Gerard, watching as the latter slipped graciously between the younger’s legs.

“And that is?” Gerard asked, hands on either side of Frank’s head.

“That 'you doing me' will take as long as me having to do that contract.” Frank chuckled dryly up at Gerard who sat up, tugging his t-shirt up and off with a simple, one-action motion.

“I’m sure I can arrange that, boy. The only question is…” Gerard muttered as he forcefully pulled Frank up into a sitting position by grabbing a handful of the front of his sweater, their faces merely an inch or so apart, “Do you think you can handle it?”


	40. Manners Become Fruitless When Not Used Properly

Frank's instinct, especially when he was this close to Gerard, was to lean in and kiss him like he had done the last time but a part of him knew he wasn't allowed to do it. Gerard had a hold on the front of his sweater, practically holding Frank up, his face so close that Frank could feel his breath on his lips. Gerard kept his eyes trained on Frank, looking him over quickly, the hunger in his eyes had Frank internally caving. The all-engulfing want to please his Master, along with his need to be had by him, overrode every other cognitive thought. The only thing Frank could process in his befuddled brain was that Gerard was close to him but evidently holding back, testing the waters to see if he would make the first move. He desperately wanted to, but he also remembered what had happened the night before. Gerard tilted his head back as though waiting for Frank to make the first move, but the submissive held back, a whimper stuck in his throat when he realized he wasn't bold enough to move without instruction.

There was such a small gap between them but it felt like yards; way too far. Frank breathed out a barely audible 'please', watching Gerard and hoping that his manners would pay off. His Master merely raised an eyebrow at the one syllable and whispered, "I'm curious as to what that's for... It wasn't very clear, boy."

It should have been obvious, especially with the way Frank had leaned in a little closer, but Gerard seemed to be playing dumb. Frank swallowed and drew in a shaky breath when Gerard continued to watch him, waiting patiently because Frank knew that he stumbled a little in his head. His words failed and his heart hammered in his chest, already anticipating what Gerard was going to do to him and for how long. If Gerard really was going to fuck him for as long as it had taken him to do his contract, then Frank couldn't deny how his insides were twisting and knotting up. That was if his body could even cope with that; Five hours of working on his contract had been a long time. The idea of going for that long, especially when the longest session he had with Ryan had been a little over half an hour, was daunting.

"Why did you say 'please'?" Gerard asked curiously, his questioning already had an effect on Frank, "Manner's may maketh man, but manners become fruitless when not used properly."

His eloquence made Frank's insides flutter and squirm. The way Gerard looked down at him like a wolf watching and waiting for his prey to succumb to his need. Frank swore that he couldn't focus, and yet all of his zone-focus was trained on his Master when he managed to whisper shakily, "M-May I please kiss you, sir?"

"Good boy." Gerard praised his obedience; the fact that Frank hadn't just given into his carnal need. Gerard got even closer to him, his grip tightening even more on the sweater Frank was still wearing. Frank felt like he was teetering on an edge, anticipation burning a brilliant and lustful fuchsia in his stomach when Gerard gave him the smallest of tempered smiles. He looked at Frank once more, eyes focusing on his parted lips before the inches dissolved into nothing. The edge slipped away from Frank's feet when the pressure of Gerard's kiss took over. Frank warmed instantaneously when Gerard kissed him, soft lips ruling him and taking charge. The slightest of whimpers echoed in Frank's throat when he felt a tongue tracing his lips; instinctively he opened up, holding onto Gerard and clinging onto his upper arms while he rolled his tongue against Gerard's in a languid display of desperation. Frank had always been the kind of guy who enjoyed the build-up before sex, it had the heat in his stomach sinking down low and his mind beginning to white out. Gerard had Frank drag in a shaky breath through his nose, a muffled 'ah' left him unexpectedly when Gerard sucked on his bottom lip, pulling away far too quickly for Frank's liking.

Gerard tugged at the bottom of Frank's sweater and the latter lifted his arms, letting Gerard undress him. The sweater and t-shirt were discarded onto the floor before Gerard was back on Frank, pushing him down on the bed before he climbed in between his legs. Frank let out a moan when spit-slick lips were back on his own and he kissed back fervently, feeling himself getting more and more wound up as Gerard rolled his hips. The instant pressure on Frank's growing erection, his Master's thick length rubbing against him through his boxers had Frank panting into the kiss. He was thrumming as he tried to pull Gerard even closer to him, hooking a leg around his Dominant's hips to keep him as close as possible.

"Patience is a virtue, my boy," Gerard reminded Frank once he broke the kiss, looking down at the younger man beneath him, his voice breathy but so self-contained. Frank felt light-headed already, practically buzzing with the preconception of what was to come. He bit his lip, stifling a groan when Gerard rocked his hips down against him slowly, torturing him as pleasure bubbled away inside, "If you want to go for as long as your contract took then you need to pace yourself, pup."

"Y-Yes, sir," Frank responded without thinking; replying when necessary had become second nature to him. Acknowledging what Gerard had told him, Frank had no idea how he was going to be able to pace himself when the mere action of Gerard rubbing against him made it feel like his insides were burning hot. Not to the point that Frank swore he could have come from this alone, but close to the point that he was desperate to be filled and used for as long as possible.

Gerard clearly caught on to Frank's heedless pawing, one leg still wrapped around him, it was obvious that Frank was getting a little too carried away. Gerard had in his head what he wanted to do to Frank, but that meant trying to calm down the already-coiled spring of a boy that was underneath him. Gerard tutted softly when he sat up on the bed, his hands trailed up Frank's thighs, skimming over the fabric of his boxers. Frank's hips instinctively lifted when Gerard got his fingers looped into the elastic. Frank let his head fall back against the bed, swallowing as he tried to breathe as evenly as possible. He helped his Master pull the material from his thighs, flushing a tint of pink in the face when he felt so exposed yet again, waiting to find out what Gerard was going to do to him. His hands fisted into the bedding beneath him, dying for something to happen, anything.

"Onto your hands and knees, boy," Gerard instructed and Frank's mind stuttered at the order. It took him a moment to register what he had been told to do but when his brain caught up with his body, he realized that it was going to happen like this. The fantasy had been embedded in his skull for so long was finally coming to fruition and he genuinely felt nauseated in the best way. Frank scrambled on the bed, doing as he was told as he tried to control himself despite the exquisite feeling of Gerard behind him, stroking a hand over his exposed ass, making him whimper. Frank found himself pushing back against Gerard's hand, panting and unable to stop himself when the feel of Gerard kneading and squeezing so skillfully was enough to make him tremble. He didn't realize how much he needed this until the very moment he felt a finger trace over his hole; the lightest touch had the air punched from his chest. He felt like he was in heat, keening over how Gerard was groping at his ass to spread him open.

"Such a pretty boy," Gerard spoke softly as he pried and deliberately manhandled Frank's plump flesh with deliberate intention. Frank blushed as he dipped his head low on his shoulders, arching his back when a hand slid so sinuously slowly up his spine and back down, "There are so many things that I'm inclined to do to it... I just don't know what to choose."

A shiver chased down after the chilled fingertips of his Master; Gerard's words had a wonderful effect on him that made his toes curl and his hands dig into the bedding even tighter. Gerard removed his hands from Frank's ass, choosing to lean over him, his erection pressing hot and hard against Frank's most intimate facets. He whimpered at the warm breath on his ear, "Do you remember your safeword, runt?"

Frank frowned as he lifted his head up, "Yeah? Of course."

"Do you care to remind me what it is?" Gerard asked, his hand skimming along Frank's stomach while he waited for him to answer. The touch was something that could be so innocent, fingertips trailing over tensed muscle that only tautened even more under the touch. It made it even harder for Frank to concentrate on saying the word that lurked in his mouth like a frightened animal.

"P-Pineapples," Frank replied as best he could as he glanced to the side to see Gerard's face so close to his own. Was he going to need it? Their contract was finished and now Gerard had a wonderfully colorful insight into what made Frank tick like a perverted time-bomb. His stomach twisted at the idea, especially after what Gerard had said to him moments before. Did he have something set in his mind? he idea of that alone made him feel like his stomach had dropped down to his feet. And then he felt a hand back on his left ass cheek that caressed so gently, the touch wound him up and involuntarily had him rock back against his Master's hand. Frank bit down on his lip, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, needing Gerard buried in him and not teasing him like he was at that moment.

What Frank wasn't expecting was that when Gerard removed his hand from where it had been, it came swiftly back into contact with a sharp slap, making Frank's body lurch forward as he yelped. The sound of a hand slapping against his ass rang in his ears as the sharp tingles resonated over his skin both hot and cold. It was a lot harder than he had been hit the day before. Frank couldn't help how his safeword rested quite comfortably on his tongue, it wasn't like he was going to blurt it out just because Gerard had surprised him with the spanking, but it was the surprise of it all. He hadn't expected the pain that was currently radiating from the pink mark that was across his backside. Gerard's fingers ran over his flesh as he stroked the tender spot that had Frank melting a little. As much as it had stung, it felt so good; the warm burn that was residing in his skin felt much more sensitive when the area was touched. Frank couldn't help how he whimpered, pushing his safeword back and out of the way as he wondered- And hoped- that Gerard was going to do it again.

Gerard moved his hand back before slapping the pink print on his skin, hitting the exact same area almost precisely. Frank had waited with bated breath when his body lurched forward again. His legs shook, the shock of the moment was subsiding unlike the heat that was growing, radiating, and spreading. Gerard had struck him harder; not much harder, but it was enough to have Frank panting. He yelped when another firm hand came down on his skin, the sharp sound perverting the silence between them. He pushed his cheek against the sheet, keening pathetically.

"Fuck-" Frank choked out when Gerard struck his ass again, twice in quick succession, one to the left and the second taking Frank more by surprise when he switched sides. He hissed out a small sob, his hands rested on the back of his head with his fingers knotted into his hair. There was nothing for a moment but Frank could feel the bed moving behind him, he dared to look over his shoulder to see what his Master was doing, but he wasn't given the opportunity. One more swift slap came across his right cheek and Frank stifled a cry, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. His eyes screwed shut and his thighs shook, his whole body screamed out from the intensity of the burning pain, but at the same time, he was relishing in all of it. His mind had sparked out from the first slap, letting the stinging pleasure fizz through his system, it made him feel drunk. The prickling heat scored every nerve ending and sent glowing pulses into his lower stomach, his dick twitched when Gerard stroked his hand over the sore marks on his ass. Frank forced in an unsteady breath, finally peeling his eyes open, he yearned for more, the warmth of the sting made him shift his hips and push his ass back against Gerard's grip.

"Good boy," Gerard purred as he cupped and kneaded, his free hand ghosting up Frank's thigh. His fingers traced a line until he reached the top of his leg, thumb pressing against Frank's hole just enough to peel a pleading whine from the submissive as three fingers rubbed way too slowly over the sensitive skin that spanned from balls to hole. He felt breathless at the invasive touch but refused to move as Gerard repeated the action, "You liked that, didn't you?"

Frank nodded before he even registered the reaction, his mind securely fastened to where Gerard was touching him. He pushed back and hoped that something- Anything- would finally push into him and satisfy the ever-growing chasm of longing. It was then that Gerard moved away, making Frank feel like he was about to collapse onto the bed. His mind screamed out in frustration and Frank let out a small groan, yelping when a poignant slap bounced off of his head. He ignored the fizzles in his stomach that bloomed in response and chose to listen to his Master's sneered words.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that, boy," Gerard's voice darkened. Frank's stomach clenched at the tone, "You liked that, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy." Gerard hummed. Frank heard the soft snap of a cap being opened and it set his stomach churning all over again. The thought alone had Frank clenching already, the anticipated thrum while he waited for the one thing he craved. It came almost instantly; the cold slide of slick fingers pressed at his hole, teasing and making Frank shudder out an embarrassingly high-pitched moan. He dared to push back against the two fingers that were circling his hole, but Gerard's other hand gripped his throbbing ass, keeping him still. Frank knew that he lacked patience. How could he wait when all he wanted was making him feel like he was going to burst. His once-fantasy was about to become a reality and Gerard wasn't letting him rush. Frank had to learn, and he would, no matter what.

The submissive's breathing faltered when he finally felt both fingers sink into him a little quicker than he expected. The ache of the stretch rung out and Frank acclimatized to it as best he could, feeling the slow slide of Gerard's slender fingers inside him. He heard Gerard curse quietly behind him, practically pulling out before he slid back in even quicker, fucking Frank with short thrusts. He hissed at the dull ache of the stretch but Gerard scissoring him and curling his fingers felt like magic. He had only ever imagined what this would feel like, being in this position for his Master, Frank felt like his skin was prickling; far too hot and burning up perfectly. Gerard pushed his fingers in roughly, his other hand gripping Frank's ass in an iron grip. The combination of being spanked and now being fingered had Frank unable to think straight.

Frank blissed-out when three fingers were in him, he was knocked dumb as he held onto the bedding as tight as he could, insides teetering on the brink of ecstasy. He had no idea how he was going to last as long as he had hoped he would; there was no way. Frank felt like he was far too close already, his moans shattered in his throat before they could even tumble passed his lips. Frank whined when Gerard pulled out, he instantly missed the feeling of being not quite full enough, "Slow down, boy. I'm not going anywhere until I'm done with you."

Frank tried to push back when he felt Gerard's dick press against him, but the grip on him grew tighter. The steely hold on his already warm skin ached and fired with sparkler-sharp fizzles. Then the overwhelming feeling of being filled took over when Gerard pushed in. Frank's mouth hung open and the air left his lungs, the moment Gerard sunk into him, he whined loudly. This was better than Frank had ever imagined, netter than his imagination or any toy. Gerard took hold of his waist and held him steady, pulling Frank onto him in one slow and steady movement.

"So tight," Gerard grunted as he bottomed out, pushing in to the hilt in a powerful stroke. Frank tried to hold it together when he was full of his Master, keening at the blissful combination of pain and pleasure that was resonating in him. He could just imagine how Gerard looked behind him, looking down at _his_ Frank, _his_ boy, _his_ newly appointed submissive, it was probably having such an effect on him. A sheen of sweat was probably starting to build up on his brow; his eyes full of hunger. He paused for a second and Frank adjusted to how thick Gerard was in him before the feeling was nearly gone. Gerard had practically pulled out before snapping his hips back. Frank yelped out a loud moan, his hands gripped the bedding. Gerard's hand slid back to his waist, gripping his skin before he pushed Frank forward only to pull him back onto his dick, setting up a slow rhythm.

"Fuck," Gerard cursed out, voice already sounding sonorous, "You look so good. It's like you were made to take me..."

Frank swore he was going to cave if Gerard kept saying things like that. He had been stilled, and the way Gerard was snapping his hips against him, it had the fire in the pit of Frank's stomach already burning hot. Gerard was using him and Frank felt like he was riding the biggest high that he had ever experienced during sex. Gerard was shoving into him over and over so quickly, making him moan uncontrollably every time he heard the slap of skin against skin. He was going to lose it far too fast if Gerard kept this up and Frank really didn't want to come so soon.

"Oh, God- Fuck, ah," Frank moaned out brokenly, he rested his cheek on the bed, screwing his eyes shut. Frank could already feel the burning-fire sensation low in his gut start to emanate outwards. His thighs shook uncontrollably and his stomach tensed, his lungs unable to take in air. How could he stop himself when Gerard was picking up speed again, one hand reaching up to knot in the back of Frank's hair. He tugged, pulling Frank back up onto his hands and knees. He could barely keep a grip on the bedding as he swallowed down a lungful of air between moans and profanities. He hoped and prayed to whatever God that was up there was going to stop him from ashamedly blow his load far too soon. The sharp spikes of pain in the back of his skull made him cry out and even more saliva start to run down his chin, "Sir- Oh, fuck- God... Yes, oh-"

And then everything fell quite quickly. Frank gasped when Gerard slowed right down, coming to a stop with his dick still buried deep in him; the high that Frank had been climbing began to sink back down. He panted, his skin felt suddenly too hot and tight while his whole body felt like it was vibrating. Frank had been moments away from possibly the best orgasm ever, but Gerard had stilled. Frank tried to catch his breath, opening his eyes to stare at a random spot on the wall.

"We need to work on your endurance," Gerard commented, reaching under Frank to run his hand down his chest, across his stomach, and lower. Frank bit his lip, expecting Gerard to go even further and touch him, relieve some of the ache in his dick. He barely skimmed the area and removed his hand, running it through his hair to push it out of the way. Frank visibly tensed up at the lack of contact, getting more wound up as his impending orgasm sunk back down into its perfunctory cave. This was unfair; he wanted to chase it like a hound after a beautifully striking fox. He wanted to gain on it and pounce when it was cornered, sink his teeth right into the warmth and fall into the shambled abyss of his climax. He wanted to share that ecstasy with Gerard buried inside him, but Gerard was right; his stamina was really something that needed to improve. Gerard tutted his tongue disapprovingly, "Can't have you coming too soon, pup. That won't do."

The slow pace Gerard had previously set started up again and Frank wondered if Gerard was going to keep doing this every time he got too close too quickly. For someone who had been asked to be fucked for hours, there was no way in Hell he was going to last an hour, barely half an hour if Gerard kept up his sensuous torture. Frank tried his ace to hold off, relaxing as best he could, but it was no good when Gerard picked up the gait again. He just couldn't stop the thick spools of drool that were falling from between his gritted teeth, dripping onto the sheets beneath him when Gerard was fucking him faster. He wanted it harder, he wanted Gerard to pound into him and make him come so hard that he would sob and scream. But of course, Gerard picked up on how Frank was reacting; the familiar clench along with how his moans and curses were all slewing into one. Gerard dug his nails into Frank's waist and held him still, stopping Frank from shoving back against him just to chase what was practically within reach.

"Slow down," Gerard warned. The way he sounded went straight to Frank's dick that throbbing painfully. Frank felt like he was going to cry if Gerard continued to stop every time. A small sob left him as another tendril of drool escaped from his lips to fall onto the bed. He had never been this bad before, he had never salivated to the point that it would pour from his mouth but he also relished in the fact that it was his body's natural reaction to his Master. No one else could have him pooling fountains in the same way that his Dominant could. He shuddered, his whole body complained as Gerard pulled out and left him whining, desperate to be so full again, "If you rush ahead so frantically then you're only going to end up looking like a desirous slut."

The insult hit Frank's ears and his insides lurched at the one word he had never been called before. The single syllable that rolled off Gerard's tongue like liquid. He wanted to feel disgusted that Gerard had chosen to call him that, but deep down he loved it and the humiliation that came from it. The one degrading word that made Frank whimper and sound just as desperate as Gerard had labeled him. He fell forward, his face landing in the cold and damp puddle that he had created with his spit, "I can't-"

"You're going to have to, boy. This is what you wanted."

Frank shook his head, "Sir, I can't- I-"

"You will," Gerard ordered firmly. Frank's entire being crumpled under the weight of the two words. Frank wasn't going to get what he wanted and he knew it, he wasn't going to come just yet because his Master had said 'no'. Gerard pushed back in a little too quickly than Frank could handle, he was balanced on such a tight string already that the thrust had him convulsing and moaning. Gerard didn't start off slow for him this time; he went right back into the rhythm that he had built up, fucking into the submissive like a jackhammer. Gerard's hands were set on his shoulders before they trailed up, one hand twisted into the brunette locks at the back of Frank's head when the other wrapped so dangerously around his throat. Frank felt like he was splintering already, his insides knotted up so tight and only able to undo themselves when he finally came. But coming wasn't something that he was trying to focus on.

Frank tried to zone out and hold off. It was practically impossible to do when all he could hear was Gerard's labored breaths, buried beneath the obscene skin-on-skin. He swallowed, barely able to breathe when Gerard's fingertips dug into the side of his throat. He gagged on stifled air, his Adam's apple pressed into his windpipe from the taut hold on his neck. He could feel a pressure behind his eyes and a scratch at the back of his tongue. It added a static elevation to his high when his Master's dick brushing against his prostate over and over. It was too much for Frank to handle; as much as he wanted to go on for hours, hours weren't an option for him when the swell of burning pleasure started to build up speed inside of him. Pre-come leaked onto the bedding beneath him as more drool ran in torrent laps down over Gerard's hand and into the sticky space of his own throat. His knuckles white against the bedding, his knees ached and felt raw from the rough slide over the sheets. The grip on his throat tightened and he was suddenly, and unceremoniously, pulled up. He yelped at the hard press of his Master's dick against his prostate, mewling when he was hauled back by his neck, his back flush with Gerard's chest.

"You see this?" Gerard crooned as he let go of his submissive's throat and held his hand up, showing Frank how completely drenched his hand was in spit. It webbed between his fingers and ran down his forearm, slick and shiny in the daylight. Frank whimpered in response, panting heavily as his chest rose and fell; Gerard's other arm was around his chest to keep him from toppling over, "Vulgar little boy who can't control his mouth. Is that what you are?"

"I-" Frank heaved out but was cut off when Gerard smeared his hand over Frank's mouth, rubbing the saliva all over his flushed face before he was pushed back down into the bed. He sobbed out a broken moan, gritting his teeth as the hand remained on his face, keeping his head pressed into the mattress. Frank practically sobbed on the bed, his arms giving out while his whole body shook as his oh-so-close orgasm started to subside in him. He wanted to scream, being denied the one thing he craved yet again. Gerard pulled out once more, the palm of his hand coming down hard against Frank's ass, making him cry out in pain and sheer desperation. He moved his hand from Frank's head but took him by the hair to tilt his head, their eyes locking instantly, "You really can't control yourself, can you boy?"

"I can't- I can't-" Frank sobbed yet again, shaking his head as tears welled in his eyes, "God, I w'na fucking come. Please. Fuck- Please, sir. Anything-"

"Do you? You think you deserve to after I have to keep stopping because you lack tolerance?" Gerard questioned as he watched Frank's attempt as rocking himself back on his Master's length, pitiful whines escaping his lips as each shuddering breath had him heaving.

"Fuck, please-" Frank begged when Gerard lifted him up again by the scalp. He yelped out, cringing at the pain as he was dragged onto his knees by his hair. An open-palmed slap brought him back into the moment, the intense piqued tingles overrode the ache to his cheekbone, and he grunted at the impact. He clenched his jaw, fighting the hold in his hair when Gerard held him still, lips to his ear.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. You seemed to have forgotten to whom you're speaking, dog." Gerard reminded him vehemently, "I am your Master and you should do to fucking remember that. I could keep doing this for hours just like you wanted. Make you learn some self-control. Or, depending on how nicely you ask... I could let you come, boy. I could keep going, I could fill that hole of yours and not hold back when you're... Right there."

"Oh, God... Please, sir," Frank implored again, a small scream leaving him when another slap had his head jerk violently. He panted, his face throbbing, when Gerard gripped his jaw. His head was turned and he stared into his Master's eyes, the glare had a tyrannical swarm of butterflies take off into his soft organs almost immediately. He was let go of and he fell back down onto his hands and knees when Gerard let go of him, circling his hips just an infinitesimal amount to stir up the pleasure he craved, "Please... I need to-"

Gerard landed one more slap to Frank's ass, making tears well in his screwed-shut eyes, searing pain radiated through his thigh and into his orgasm-fire. The strangled noise that left him ended with a pleading sob when Gerard spoke, his voice laced with disapproval, "You really need to learn how to ask properly. Were you not taught any manners growing up, boy?"

Frank shook uncontrollably, involuntarily. His arms threatened to crumple under him. He was in pain, but it felt far sublime; he was so close to the finish line and all he had to do was just ask. It seemed like such a simple feat to accomplish. It was just getting out the right words. Using the wrong ones would probably result in another slap to either his face or his ass- He relished in both so much more than he wanted to admit. He paused for a second, swallowing as he tried to piece together some semblance of a sentence to appease his Master, "'M sorry, sir. P-Please, please... God, please, can I come? I need to... Sir, please. W'na come so bad. You make me feel so good, fill me so fuckin' good. It hurts."

Gerard smiled as he ran his hand over Frank's red flesh, the contact had the submissive instantly whine and press back against him, urging for more. Gerard traced the pad of his thumb over Frank's stretched rim as he praised him. "I knew there were manners in you somewhere. Such a good boy."

In an instant, he was pushing back into Frank and found the pace he had set just as quickly as he had before. He fucked into the pliant boy beneath him with rampant thrusts that had Frank spewing a mess of slurred noises. His hair clinging to his damp forehead and he shook feverishly. He felt a tight grip around his wrist that held him down and he whined, reveling in Gerard's body so close to his when he was within reach of his climax. Frank swore he could reach and touch it, get a firm grasp around it and finally ride it out. He struggled to breathe when the intensely tight knot in the pit of his stomach started to unravel. Frank tensed, his whole body nearly went into shock when the force of his orgasm ripped through him and made him feel like he was being broken apart. He cried out brokenly as he came on the sheets beneath him, his mind whiting out. Gerard continued to thrust into him erratically, his hands gripping Frank's hips with bruising strength. Frank heard a rough 'good boy' from behind him as he arched his back and rocked himself in sync with his Master. He whined incessantly, listening to the soft grunted moans that left Gerard's lips, rutting against him as his orgasm faded into obscenely pleasurable tingles in his fingers and toes. Frank was far too sensitive for this to continue, but at the same time, he relished in how his body continued to fire. His nerves were shot and overworked, sending ripples of overstimulated sparks through his system like hot pins and needles.

A few hard thrusts later, Gerard was stilling in him, gripping Frank to pulling him flush, grunting and cursing when his own orgasm hit. Frank wished that he could see his Master come because of him, but he knew he wasn't meant to move- He probably couldn't if he tried. Gerard slowly rocked himself against Frank, rolling his hips as his own release began to fade. Frank readjusted when he felt the pulse of Gerard in him, the feeling instantly made him squirm.

"Fuck," Gerard swore under his breath as he pushed his hair out of his eyes, and slowly and carefully pulled out. Frank whined, missing the feeling of his Master in him. He collapsed, his legs unable to take it anymore, and he lay flat on the bed, eyes refusing to open while he breathed through the post-orgasm tingles that were still rife in his body. Gerard reached out to touch him tenderly and Frank flinched, hissing lightly when he felt fingers grace the overly-hot skin of his behind.

"Are you okay?" Gerard asked instantly, only to see Frank nodding. A smile spread across his face before he let out a small giggle. Gerard didn't seem appeased by the croaked laugh "Are you sure?"

His ass felt like it was on fire, but it had actually been something that he had enjoyed more than he thought he would. He felt proud of himself for not having used his safeword; Gerard was probably proud of him for not doing that, too. He lay spread out like a starfish on the bed as he tried to catch his breath, "Honestly, I-I'm good, sir."

Gerard muttered out a 'one second' before Frank felt the bed behind him shift. Without even opening his eyes, Frank listened to see if he could figure out what Gerard was doing. He could hear the sound of a drawer being opened, then shut, and Gerard was back on the bed to sit beside him, "It wasn't the five hours that you had hoped for, chiot."

[Pup]

"How long?" Frank asked, cracking one eye open to see that Gerard had thrown his lilac t-shirt back on and was sitting sideways on the mattress

"Just over an hour and a bit," Gerard answered. Frank grinned at that, he felt so fucking proud. Gerard smiled, "You did well, boy. I half expected you to 'safeword'."

"I'm full of surprises."

"That, you really are," Gerard mimicked the chuckle. Frank tried to shift on the bed, but his throbbing ass refused to let him move. Gerard tutted his tongue lightly, "Lie still, okay?"

"Don't think I'm going anywhere for a while- Ah! Fucking Nora, what the fuck?" Frank cried when he felt Gerard's hand on his ass, rubbing something cold and stinging on his hot skin. He winced, feeling the sting in his skin intensify as he resisted the urge to get away from whatever Gerard was doing to him.

"Shh, it's okay, my boy. I'm putting aloe vera on you," Gerard calmed as he put his free hand on Frank's lower back, his thumb brushing back and forth gently. Frank stared down at his Dominant with aghast eyes as he tried to breathe through his nose to assimilate the pain. Gerard pursed his lips, "I know it stings a little now, but it will help."

"Why?"

"This is aftercare, Frank." Gerard told him, "This is the time after a scene where you recover. I make sure you are okay both physically and mentally. I see to your needs. Certain roles and acts can be both psychologically and physically taxing, especially for your first time."

"Is this why you're smearing what smells like plant dick-cheese over my ass?" Frank chuckled again, smiling against the bedding now that he had gotten used to what Gerard was doing to him. If anything, it was nice, being cared for like this. He wouldn't have labeled it as 'affection', but it was definitely something that Frank felt he had craved for far too long.

"Yes, exactly," Gerard spoke, "It may not smell very nice, but at least it means that you might be able to sit half-comfortably."

"Thanks," Frank muttered before he lifted his head up, looking over at Gerard to watch just how intently and diligently he was paying attention to his current action. Frank bit his lip "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. Thank you for asking, sweet boy," Gerard nodded, a smile cracking on the corner of his lips as he closed the small bottle of lotion and set it aside. He got up to retrieve his boxers and turned to see Frank staring at him. Frank immediately blushed a furious red and hid his head in his arms, "Do you think you will be able to walk okay?"

"Gimme a minute," Frank answered before he rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his fist, "Why, sir?"

"No reason," Gerard said nonchalantly as he pulled up his boxers, "It can wait. But when you are ready, I have something to show you, boy."

"Oh, yeah?" Frank couldn't deny his piqued curiosity as he sat up a little higher, "What's that?"

"Rest, boy," Gerard instructed as he put his hands behind his back serenely, "I'm sure what I have to show you can wait a little while longer." 


	41. Don't Make it a Habit, Boy

“Um. I know I said I like being hurt and all but… Knocking my toes on the walls and furniture is not exactly getting me off.” Frank muttered as he squinted into the black blindfold Gerard had wrapped around his eyes.

“My apologies, boy.” Gerard chuckled as he held Frank’s hand in his and led him down the hallway from his bedroom, turning somewhat when he was stopped, stumbling on the spot when the blindfold was unfastened.

“I can see your room from here.” Frank squinted as he looked down the corridor, “Why did you blindfold me?”

“For effect.” Gerard chuckled, “I would have kept it on but you have something to do for me.”

“I do?” Frank frowned and Gerard looked at the closed door in front of them and Frank realized, letting out a small ‘oh’ when he stepped up and opened the door, stepping aside to let his Master into the room before he followed.

Gerard reached over, flicking the lights on, the mixture of dim yellow lighting and bright red lights lit up the room and Frank took in what was in front of him, sucking in a breath as his stomach flipped over, “Welcome, pup… This is all yours.”

“Wh…” Frank muttered, his eyes first landing on the large black wooden ‘X’ in the corner on a short pedestal and he walked up to it, ignoring everything else for the moment because he knew he would have Gerard explaining them all to him, “Sir?”

“This is a Saint Andrew’s Cross, boy.” Gerard muttered as he stood beside Frank, “It’s the cross you asked about. You get tied to it, remember?”

“Fuck.” Frank whispered and looked just behind it to a set of three mirrors that were covered in hooks, each hook hanging some sort of harnessing. Frank saw different colored lengths of rope and black leather cuffs and metal shackles and what he figured were body harnesses.

A few feet beside it on the right was a bed, the frame was black metal, four-poster with railings and banisters. There were pulleys on either bottom end with chains attached, ropes hooked to the chains with black leather cuffs hanging from the end. The cuffs were wrapped around the posters and pushed aside and out of the way until use was imminent. The mattress was covered in black sheets, no blankets although it was covered in black and burgundy pillows. At the foot of the bed was a red studded leather footstool, ankle straps in the front of it, and wrist cuffs leading to it from the bed’s end posters. Frank was astounded at it all, noticing the head of the bed had a metal beam, three round holes cut into it resembling olden-day stocks.

It was when Frank tilted his head that he noticed it, the bottom of the bed was not a base mattress, the bottom of the bed was part of the frame, it also had a side to it with a latch and Frank realized that it was not decorative bars all the way around… it was a cage.

“Cage?” Frank asked curiously, looking up at his Master as he kept his hands behind his back.

“That’s for you if you misbehave.” Gerard replied simply, looking at it, “That's where you sleep or if I put you in a timeout. That’s a laying timeout, you lay under there until I let you out. Indefinitely.”

“Oh, my God,” Frank whispered, swallowing hard. He walked up to the bed and put his hand on it, noticing a lengthwise mirror on the wooden-paneled wall. Then he noticed the walls around him were all large squares of wood in different colors. In any other circumstance, Frank would have found the wooden walls cheap and tacky but here, in this room… It was beautiful and it added to the room’s ambiance. Frank looked down at the wooden-paneled floor and the red and beige Persian carpet that stood in the middle, taking up most of the middle of the floor. It stood out and fitted the room at the same time, positively screaming ‘Gerard’ in every way. The next thing that caught Frank’s attention was a black metal-framed glass cabinet that took up most of the wall beside the bed, four shelves within it, each long shelf holding a different type of prop. The top shelf was filled with vibrators and dildos of various colors and shapes and sizes. Beside it was different kinds of lubes and creams to boot.

The second shelf held what Frank remembered to be buttplugs of different sizes and materials along with a few different rings in silicone and metal that Frank frowned at, not quite sure what they were. Frank bent down, crouching to look at the third shelf, instantly feeling his stomach jump up into his throat and power kick his Adam’s apple. The third shelf was littered neatly with mannequin heads that seemed to model different types of gags and Frank couldn’t help but thank that the heads were plain and featureless, each gag completely different from the other that he didn’t understand- all sleek and absolutely breathtaking.

“There are so many,” Frank whispered.

“There are eleven, boy.” Gerard crouched down beside his submissive, “Each one with a different purpose. Like this first one.”

Frank looked at the plain black gag with a black ball in the middle, the only one he recognized, “Oh?”

“That’s a ballgag, made usually of rubber or silicone, the ball stretching your mouth as it goes behind your teeth to silence you, distort your features, or to induce excessive drooling. Not that you need any help with that latter fact, spit monster.”

“Wow.” Frank blushed profusely and looked away from Gerard’s smug smile. He looked at the next gag that Gerard had pointed to, a similar-looking one where the only difference being that there were holes in the ball of the gag, “And that one, sir?”

“That’s a wiffle gag. It’s simple plastic rather than silicone, and it’s a safer one usually used by beginners because it doesn’t restrict airflow.” Gerard chuckled at Frank’s widened eyes.

“It looks like… A lot of spit would get in there.” Frank bit his lip and Gerard nodded gravely, feigning stoic-like intensity.

“Afraid so. Very messy.” Gerard replied, “But very, very enticing.”

“N-Next one…” Frank whispered as he looked away from Gerard’s stern gaze.

“Next one is this. It’s called a 'bit'.” Gerard pointed to the next gag that reminded Frank of a horse’s bridle, “It goes around your head and you bite on that lengthy bar, the leather reins go around your head.”

“Like a horse.” Frank pursed his lips, “Thought we didn’t like the pony play, sir?”

“It isn’t used exclusively in pony play.” Gerard replied with a simple chuckle, pointing at the next one, “That’s just a red piece of scarf to tie around your mouth to bite on, nothing fancy. Although the formal name for it is a cleave.”

“Cleave.” Frank nodded, “Gotcha, sir.”

“Next is this one, boy.” Gerard pointed to a very strappy looking one, “That is a harness gag. The gag goes into your mouth with these many straps that go over the face and around the neck.”

“And this knotted rope?” Frank asked, eyeing the black rope that was knotted in the middle with pieces that ran lengthwise into loops.

“Also a gag. The knot goes into your mouth as a gag.” Gerard shrugged, “A makeshift gag.”

“It’s… Pretty somehow.” Frank’s head tilted to the side, eyeing the thickly-knotted cords, “What’s next?”

“The next one, as scary as it is, is a ‘Whitehead’ or ‘Jennings’ gag.” Frank stared at the leather straps with the metal curling sides in the middle, “The gag cranks your mouth open and stretches it sideways. It allows for unlimited mouth access and completely intelligible coherency but does little to silence the submissive.”

“Jesus.” Frank whispered, “What’s that next one?”

“A mouth corset.” Gerard nodded, “A mouth corset is a type of neck corset that covers both the neck and the mouth. Incorporating a gag into a neck corset presents a few safety issues, for example, should the wearer begin to choke, it is not easy to remove the gag quickly. For this reason, boy, most mouth corsets use a simple muzzle gag that merely covers the mouth and does not force anything into the mouth, thus minimizing the risk. Despite not forcing anything into the mouth, mouth corsets are usually very effective in gagging the victim due to the fact that the chin piece prevents the wearer from opening their mouth and dislodging the gag and the lacing at the back of the corset holds the gag tightly against the mouth making a very effective seal. Also, the cheeks are compressed which makes it even harder.”

“My God, what’s it made of?” Frank eyed the lengthy gag.

“Leather or latex.” Gerard shrugged, “This specific one is latex.”

“It’s so pretty…” Frank whispered softly, reaching out to touch the cabinet but he stopped, realizing he didn’t want to touch the pretty glass and that he didn’t have permission. He put his hand back where it was and looked at the next gag, “This one?”

“Mouthguard.” Gerard nodded as Frank noticed how different it was to the harness one he had seen before except that it had no guard and it had a mouth covering, the same black straps and harnessing, “This gag has two mouthguards, similar to those worn by football and hockey players. One rests on the lower teeth of the wearer while the other is against the top. Again, like sports mouthguards, these mouthguards can be softened in boiling water to fit the mouth of the wearer. The mouthguards are attached to a front faceplate, like most plug gags, and straps from the front to the back.”

“Wow.” Frank leaned in, “I love it… But, that one’s the same?”

“It’s not.” Gerard replied, “That’s a muzzle.”

“But… Sir-”

“Look there, boy,” Gerard leaned in, “They are similar except this one doesn’t have a mouthpiece to bite on and it has fewer straps. This one merely covers the mouth, called an OTM, or ‘over the mouth’ gag. Only that they are usually made of leather, are fastened around the head with buckles and straps, and cover the lower part of the face.”

“Oh…” Frank trailed off, looking at the gag, “It’s… Wow.”

“This next one is called a 'ring gag'. Very similar to the ball gag in that it goes behind the teeth but instead of a ball, it has that large metal ring to keep your mouth open… Whether you want it or not.” Gerard smirked slightly and Frank went pink as the image ran through his head.

“Oh- Oh my God, what the hell is that last one?” Frank whimpered as he leaned in, looking at the last gag that was similar to the ring gag except for the three prongs on each side of the ring.

“A spider gag.” Gerard replied, “It’s also called a second-generation gag, boy. The ring has hooks on the sides so as to keep the wearer from flipping the ring horizontally in their mouth. Unlike the ring gag which can be easily flipped, a spider gag is essentially functional and non-decorative. Generally, these gags have interchangeable rings so as to accommodate both the wearers’ mouth and the size of any object that might be inserted through the ring.”

“I-Inserted…” Frank went bright pink in the face and Gerard let out a low chuckle as he straightened up, standing beside his submissive who was still crouching despite his feet and knees starting to ache. Frank turned his head and looked down at the last shelf, whimpering softly at the miscellaneous types of props. He saw different types of tape, different types of clamps, and weights. Frank withheld the urge to moan as he stood up and he looked at Gerard who was standing in the door to his right.

“Would you like to explore the other side of your playroom, boy?” Gerard gestured with a hand to the left side of the room that Frank hadn’t looked at yet, the left side of the cross. Frank crossed Gerard and walked up to the cross when he saw another similar mirrored shelf that was hanging with more crops and black paddles that were hanging neatly in order. Frank stepped aside and swallowed, stepping back as he looked at the leather-studded sex swing with a low bucketed seat hanging from the ceiling with a leg harness chained to it, the thick steel chains were intimidating to Frank, making his stomach churn and his neck hair prickle.

“Oh, my God.” He whispered, looking over at Gerard, “Oh… My sweet God.”

“Like it?”

“Jesus fuck…” Frank whispered as he ran a hand over the chains.

“The chair part can be removed, the chains are permanent. You can hang other things on there, too.” Gerard replied simply, leaning against the door.

“Like?”

“Like I can heighten those chains and hang you from them.” Gerard shrugged and Frank looked at it, whimpering, “I could hang you upside down from it, harness you up in it before I do awfully immoral and impurrient things to you, pup.”

“I-” Frank’s throat went dry as he stepped from the swing and looked at the large black chair in the corner with ankle and wrist straps. He smiled at it and looked at the odd prop beside it with its black frame and red leather, “This is…?”

“A sawhorse, boy.” Gerard walked over and touched the top of it, the top lengthy base accompanied by two other, smaller rests, each with a thick ankle strap that angled down to the ground.

“Oh… This is a sawhorse.” Frank whispered, the idea of sitting on it had him aching. He bit on his bottom lip and tore his gaze from it to the last thing in the room, a red velvet-lined cabinet that was mounted to the wall with a vast array of collars within it, each velvet mount held two collars except for the bottom collar that was exceptionally large. The bottom of the display held different tags that had yet to be engraved.

“Why so many collars, sir?” Frank asked as Gerard walked over, smiling at the black collars.

“Each of the thirteen collars has a different function and time for usage, pup.”

“Can- Sir, do I get to know each one?” Frank looked at his Master and at the collars.

“Of course, boy.” Gerard smiled, “Where do you want me to start, boy?”

“Bottom?” Frank offered with a shrug, looking at the thick-length collar in black with a small silver attachment and a tiny ring that Frank assumed to be for a leash or chain.

“That’s a posture collar.” Gerard stated simply, “A posture collar is generally made of a rigid material, like this one is made of leather, Frank. And some may also contain corset-style boning and straps for purposes of Breath play. The collar is contoured to fit the shoulders and the jawline, and stops the head turning or looking up or down. This causes increased levels of bondage and may also be used to train the submissive to have better posture through conditioning.”  
  


“It looks super uncomfortable.” Frank commented with a small chuckle, “Although, I think that’s the point. Right, sir?”

“Yes, boy.” Gerard nodded, “The one above it on the right is called a 'classic collar'. A classic permanent collar is a black leather strap worn snugly around the neck of the submissive, usually made of the uppermost portion of the back hide of a bull. Seeing as it’s tougher leather. It will have one O-ring on the front of the collar and include a locking mechanism in the rear such as buckles, straps and hooks, padlocks, and other attachments. This collar has the O-ring here, like the ring gag, boy.”

“I love it.” Frank muttered, “Next is?”

“That’s called a 'modern collar'.” Gerard replied as Frank eyed the collar next to the classic, swallowing at the tarnished metal with it’s locking mechanism, “Modern permanent collars are often made of lightweight metals and heavy-duty locking mechanisms which is some cases cannot be easily removed, and are preferably non-conductive should the submissive wish to engage in any sort of Electrical play. Modern collars often come in Flat style like this one, generally a rigid circle. The other style would be Turian Style- anatomically contoured for ergonomic purposes, I might add. These collars are commonly associated with Gorian Traditions. Remember we spoke about Gor?”

“The alternate BDSM thing? From the book?” Frank asked with a frown as Gerard nodded, “I see, sir.”

“Above that,” Gerard pointed to the thinner chain collar that made Frank smile, “That’s a simple collar. A simple collar consists of a padlocked chain, that I haven’t added yet. Oftentimes, these collars can be cumbersome if worn for extensive periods of time and are generally not the wisest choice for heavy Scene play. I think you can see why.”

“Looks like it’ll chafe,” Frank muttered, eyeing the chain collar before looking at the next one.

“See, now, this isn’t a specific collar,” Gerard cleared his throat as he pointed to what looked like a leather bracelet and a dog tag beside it and the simple silver ring on the end, “Some that practice the lifestyle may not utilize collars at all as symbols of power exchange but may use tattoos, scars or brands, cuffs, anklets, belly chains, dog tags, chastity devices, wedding or slave rings, or some other symbolism, or even no physical symbol at all. Exact symbols may be as personal or impersonal as the Dominant desires. I’ve given you three options for public-wear, boy.”

“Oh, wow…” Frank looked at them, “So, for like, work and stuff, right?”

“Exactly, boy.” Gerard smiled and Frank looked at the bracelet with a smile before he cringed slightly, remembering the pumpkin bracelet that Ryan had given him. He straightened up and looked away.

“I’ll decide later,” Frank whispered, hoping that Gerard wouldn’t notice.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked and Frank withheld a sigh because, of course, Gerard had noticed.

“I’m fine, sir.” Frank nodded, “Just… Yeah, I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

“Frank…?” Gerard eyed his submissive, raising an eyebrow, “What?”

“Not now, please, sir.” Frank shook his head, “I don’t wanna ruin this.”

“Alright.” Gerard straightened up courteously, “I will remember.”

“I know.” Frank nodded, “What’s this next collar, sir?”

“This next one is a play collar. A 'play collar' is generally a wide leather collar with soft padding or materials to cushion the interior, often with several D-rings or O-rings for easy connection to bondage points or leashes. A play collar is generally donned for the purposes of power exchange within a single scene, or traded for a collar that is less durable during heavy Scene play. And don’t worry, not just pet play, boy. Any play.”

Frank looked at the red double-leather collar with the silver studs and rings around it and he pursed his lips, “I really like that one.”

“I thought you might.” Gerard chuckled, “Next to that one is similar to an alternate collar, but it’s known as a 'day collar'. A day collar is a collar that is usually some form of jewelry that can pass as an inconspicuous necklace that can be easily worn for professional or other social purposes without drawing attention to the submissive and can serve as a daily reminder of the relationship even when in places that flaunting such relationship statuses might otherwise be inappropriate. So I merely got a simple silver chain for you and any of those pendants at the bottom can be fitted onto it. Any of your, or my, choice.”

“I like that.” Frank smiled brightly, eyeing the dark silver chain, “Whoa, what’s that one above it?”

“That’s a protection collar.” Gerard nodded as Frank reached out to the collar in question, “A protection collar is worn by a Charge and the collar is placed upon them by a Protector. A protection collar is generally used to redirect questions of a potential play partner from the Charge to the Protector.”

“What?” Frank frowned and turned to look at Gerard, confused at the terms.

“It’s a collar with a D-ring, boy. And it’s used to show that you are under someone’s protection, that you are owned by someone.”

“Oh,” Frank blushed, looking at the next one, “This?”

“This will be the collar you wear when we’re not in scene.” Gerard explained as Frank looked at the deep royal-blue collar with the simple and small ring on the front of it, “It’s a consideration collar. A 'consideration collar' is worn during a period of consideration, which generally indicates a minor level of commitment where both partners are considering each other for a potential long term commitment. The consideration collar is most often blue in color, like this one. It is, however, not a sturdy one and made more for comfort and therefore won’t be worn during play or it will break. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank’s eyes widened as he looked at the blue collar, feeling a pool of excitement bubble up in his stomach.

“Good boy.” Gerard put his hand on Frank’s head, “The next one I know you won’t like but it’s a pet play collar.”

“Ugh,” Frank eyed the thick black collar with its long metal spikes around it, “It’s so cute, though.”

“You don’t have to 'pet play' to wear it, Frank. That’s generally what they’re for, though.” Gerard added, “There is a leash that goes with it.”

“And the last two, sir?” Frank straightened up and looked at them.

“The one on the left is a velcro collar.” Gerard started, “A 'Velcro collar' is a derogatorily used term for relationship collars that are put on and taken off quickly. Generally, it is considered bad form to don and remove the collar quickly with exception to a consideration collar, as this may show a behavior pattern consistent with entering into meaningful adult relationships without any proper preparation, insight and a generally irresponsible attitude simply for the purposes of meeting one's appetite for sex and/or relationships.”

“Then why do we have one?” Frank frowned as he looked at the black flimsy collar with its velcro fastening and nothing else to it, the plainest collar in the cabinet.

“We have it more as an example and to have it, to show you so that you are educated in it and that you know the difference, boy.” Gerard smiled, "And that last one, you will become accustomed to as of now.”

“What is it, sir?” Frank asked as he looked at the last leather collar in a deep red color with two O-rings in the middle of it.

“That’s a training collar, pup.” Gerard smiled, “A 'Training collar' is put on a Pupil by a Trainer that generally consists of a leather strap and may or may not symbolize relationship-specific training, though frequently it indicates the latter. It generally does not have a permanent locking mechanism but may have a snap or buckle, as the training period is considered to have a definitive start and end. During the time the collar is worn the pupil responds to the commands and instructions of the trainer, which may also be their respective Dominant, or not, depending upon the purposes of the training. Training for a permanent relationship collar usually takes approximately one year according to many traditions. As we have done in the contract, boy.”

“Oh, yeah.” Frank smiled, “Why is this one red?”

“Red collars usually indicate training. Once your training is done, you can decide on whatever color you want for your stuff, however. Black is most common as well as shades of red and purple. I’ve even seen green and yellow be used as personalization.” Gerard stated before he put his hands on Frank’s shoulders and stepped him aside before he opened the cabinet, sliding the glass doors open before he pulled out the red collar and unfastened the buckle, holding it in both hands before he turned on his heel to look at Frank. Gerard looked at his submissive and gestured with a finger for Frank to turn.

Frank realized what was happening and he let out a small whimper, turning around to face away from Gerard, his heart hammering in his chest as Gerard lowered the collar down around Frank’s neck, fastening it skillfully, “Too tight?”

“No, sir.” Frank slid a finger into the collar and felt more than enough space that he was able to breathe and swallow, “It’s- It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you like them, boy. We can decide on your engravings later, I think. What do you say?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank nodded, smiling as he reached up again to touch the leather around his neck.

“Any more questions, boy?”

“Um, just one?” Frank began, biting nervously on his lip, “What’s this chair in the corner for?”

“It has many uses, Frank. Sit in it and I’ll show you.” Gerard gestured to the chair that Frank had passed by earlier. He shrugged, smiling as he wandered over and sat down, fiddling with the wrist straps as Gerard walked over and nudged his way between Frank’s legs, leaning down over him with waves of erotic intimidation and pure dominance radiating off of him. Frank looked up at Gerard before his gaze went elsewhere, more like the boner in his boxers that he had been half-nursing with all of the sordid images that ran through his head.

“S-Sir?”

“Did I give you permission to speak, boy?” Gerard asked then and Frank’s mouth dropped open, a small breath of air leaving him in reply and he shook his head, “Exactly.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Frank whispered softly, feeling the smallest bout of shame in his stomach, swallowing hard.

“You will be if you keep speaking out of turn. Don’t make it a habit, boy. I’m warning you.” Gerard did exactly that, his tone of warning was terrifying and made Frank’s legs want to involuntarily shake. He remained silent, doing exactly what he knew he should. But Gerard slid a finger under Frank’s chin and lifted his head up, their eyes locking in an intense gaze, “What is it, boy?”

“What’s with the large wardrobe there?” Frank asked as he pointed to the massive built-in closet behind the door that he hadn’t noticed initially.

“Those, my little fuck toy, are all of the outfits, clothes, binders, and masks for you and me.” Gerard purred as his thumb grazed over Frank’s bottom lip, said lip suddenly wobbling as the insult hit him smack in the forefront of his brain, right where the previous insult had hit. He let out a shaky breath as Gerard leaned in, kissing him chastely before he straightened up.

“You want me to show you something you can do with the chair?” Gerard asked in a breathy tone, “Take those boxers off, boy.”

Frank nodded, lifting his hips up as he tucked his hands into his underwear and tugged at them, trying to pull them off as Gerard sauntered over to the glass cabinet beside the bed. He opened it as Frank kicked his boxers aside, the former grabbing something from it before he walked over and closed the door, the almost-silent click of a locked door rang out louder than it should have. Gerard held up a silicone ring in his hand and looked at Frank, who stared at it blankly, shaking his head.

“Good,” Gerard whispered as he reached down, wrapping a hand around Frank’s semi, sliding the black silicone down to the base. Frank frowned at it, watching with bated breath as Gerard’s hand slid over Frank’s dick, stroking him into his fullest hardness. Frank hissed out a shaky gasp as the silicone tugged at his skin, as it constricted around his dick.

Frank was about to question it when his mouth dropped, his eyes widening as Gerard dropped to his knees, his mouth wrapped around the tip of Frank’s dick. Frank let out a groan, his toes curling in as Gerard took him further into his mouth with way too much skill necessary for a boy so out of experience with receiving oral.

“O-Oh, fuck.” Frank gasped, eyes squeezing shut as his head lolled back on his shoulders, his stomach tightening and heating up as though he were sat on a furnace rather than an armchair. Gerard’s hand tightened around the base, stroking ever still in a teasingly slow manner that had Frank teetering on the edge of sanity. He managed a short and startled breath as Gerard’s warm mouth sank down all the way, lips brushing with the silicone before he came up with intrinsic ease, no gag whatsoever. Frank whimpered as his orgasm sped through his veins ever faster, groaning at the thought of coming so close to the first time he had done.

Gerard’s hand slid up the inside of Frank’s thigh, palming at his balls as the tip of his finger brushed way too softly over Frank’s asshole. He jerked in the chair, moaning low in the back of his throat, his Adam’s apple brushing against his collar as it bobbed up and down under the soft flesh of his throat. His nails dug into the arms of the chair, his jittering hips wanting so badly to lift off of the seat but his body felt like concrete in water, sinking faster into sweet and pleasured ecstasy.

“O-Oh, God.” Frank moaned as Gerard pulled off, rubbing his mouth over the underside of Frank’s dick, tongue flitting against the sensitive skin before he sank back down again, “Sir, please… Please, I- I- Fuck- Oh.”

“I told you good boys get rewards.” Gerard replied as he pulled off, stroking firmly, thumb flitting over the tip, “And good boys do, Frank. Are you a good boy?”

“I-I’m a good boy.” Frank gasped, “F-Fuck. I-I’m… Yours, Master.”

“That’s right, pup.” Gerard crooned, “All mine.”


	42. So, You’re Deciding on These Things Now, Are You?

“Fuck,” Frank cursed out under his breath as he knotted his fingers tighter in Gerard’s hair. He watched his Master go down and take all of him into his mouth, the sight alone made Frank feel like he was going to burn up in flames. Frank panted breathlessly, relishing in his reward as he watched Gerard skillfully suck his dick; the wet heat of his Master's mouth felt unbelievable. Every now and again when Gerard would flick his tongue over the head, it felt phenomenal. Frank's free hand gripped the chair arm tightly, his nails dug into the material, stabilizing himself mentally and physically as Gerard continued to blow him.  
  
Amazement resided in the back of Frank's mind over the fact that Gerard had instigated the reward. He had clearly wanted to do it, and that in itself was so new to Frank. Gerard was clearly enjoying it; Frank could tell by the way he hummed. Frank let out a whimper when the vibrations hit his dick, sending shockwaves through his body. Gerard glanced up from under his long lashes as he wrapped his hand around the base, pumping at the same time as he sucked on the head. This was definitely the best blow job ever- Hands down. No reluctant blow job in the past would ever surpass this.  
  
Frank stuttered and tensed when he felt his Master's tongue against his piercing, rolling and flicking at it, playing with it so skillfully. Frank mewled, his insides sparked away hot and steady, simmering as he looked down. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, wanting to watch his Master at work. Gerard was still looking up at him with a darkened lusting gaze that sent a shiver down Frank's spine. That same shudder reached his toes and made his skin prickle. The effect was tenfold as wet swollen lips wrapped around the head of Frank's dick. Gerard's hand continued to stroke up and down his length, Frank keened at the sight and the exquisite sensation, unable to avert his gaze.  
  
The slick of spit on his skin was not enough to be sloppy, but enough to make perfect friction with the grip that Gerard had on him. Frank was astounded by the finesse of his Master's mouth around his length, almost envious of the refined work he made from the obscene act. He was just generally fucking amazing at sucking him off. Frank really wanted to just come in Gerard’s mouth; the thought alone made Frank groan as his head fell against the back of the chair, imagining Gerard just after he had come. Frank would have been spaced out but needing to kiss him. He wanted to taste himself on Gerard’s tongue, savor the moment before he would want to repay his Master for his reward. With the fact that he had already come once today, he honestly didn’t think that he would last at all. He could feel it building up, but then it reached a point and went no further. The blow job felt amazing but the pleasure in him was idling, ticking over but not going anywhere just yet. Gerard squeezed his hand in a tight ring and slid down around the base, making Frank whine, his hips lifting for more.  
  


He wanted to come, he could feel the frustration starting to build up in his system. He took hold of Gerard’s hair with both of his hands, unable to control himself when he pushed up, pushing his dick further into Gerard’s mouth. The desperation was teeming in his veins again, feeling oversensitive and in need of release. Frank tried to push up with his hips, but Gerard stopped him. His hands came to rest on Frank's thighs, nails digging into skin, making Frank hiss at the pain his Master was inflicting. Gerard looked up at his submissive, admonition prevalent in his eyes, making Frank shrink back in the chair. Trying to take control was definitely something that Frank shouldn’t have done, no matter how much he needed it; he just couldn’t help himself. The way Gerard had looked at him with his nails digging into the skin on his thighs to hold him still, Frank knew he was in trouble. He just hoped that Gerard would let it slide because of the fact that this was a first for him. The first blow job he had been given since the contract had been finished. It was nothing more than a slight slip up. That was all. Frank felt like he was paying for his mistake when Gerard pulled off, sitting back on his feet before he wiped spit away from his mouth with the back of his hand. Frank groaned in protest, still hard and aching with the ring snugly around the base of his dick, “Wh-?”

His brain had pretty much given up on how to function properly because all that mattered was his orgasm. All other thought processes had been diverted. Frank panted, feeling like he was internally on fire, as Gerard watched him intently. Frank swallowed back, feeling Gerard’s eyes on him, the hazel gaze melting his insides like warm ice cream. Gerard got to his feet languidly, a small smirk to his lips that had even more questions popping into Frank's brain. All he wanted was to reach down and get himself off. He was practically gagging for it.  
  
He didn’t dare; if Gerard caught him then he probably wouldn’t blow him anymore. Not that he was now, but Gerard had said that he needed to work on his stamina, so maybe his reward was supposed to be a form of preparation- Training. Frank remained in the chair, the idea that even rubbing off against something seemed like a fantastic idea right now. He could grind against the side of the chair, or the bed, or even against the sawhorse that Gerard had shown him while he introduced him to the room or anything. Frank didn’t care, as long as he could get off.  
  
Gerard would probably call him something rather humiliating if he did do it. The 'slut' insult still rang in Frank's head. Frank would do anything to get release and if Gerard decided that Frank deserved to be called whatever colorful insult that he saw fit, it would probably end up getting Frank off even more. The humiliation and degradation had a wonderful effect on Frank that he didn’t know he could have felt.  
  
"Up,” Gerard instructed, snapping his fingers at Frank who did nothing more than blink at him because he didn’t understand what was going on. Gerard sighed and shook his head before he took the matter into his own hands. Frank yelped when Gerard grabbed his hair and pulled him out of the chair because he hadn’t done as he was told. The small amount of 'nice guy' that had been residing in Gerard dissipated quickly when he tugged Frank out of the chair, pulling him over to the bed before pushing him down onto it.

Frank scrambled roughly, pulling himself into a sitting position in the middle of the bed, he watched his Master who looked very annoyed at him- Probably more than annoyed. He stared at Frank with a look in his eyes that made a cold tingle run down Frank's spine. He bowed his head down, closing his eyes to avoid looking at his own dick. He was so sure that he was already going to get scolded over the fact that he had attempted to fuck his Master's mouth. He knew he would receive some form of punishment, the thought made his whole body clench. It definitely wasn’t a good idea to even consider touching himself, especially when Gerard stood merely a few feet away from him, watching him with a look of disdain.

“Lie down, boy. On your back,” Gerard directed. Frank moved as quickly as possible, trying to hide how his nerves, excitement, and frustration were making him giddy. He lay down, his head on the mound of pillows, watching avidly. His Master walked over to the right side of the bed and took hold of Frank's wrist. Gerard pulled his arm towards the top corner of the bed before wrapping and cuffing it in a leather restraint that was attached to the bedpost.

Frank instantly tugged on it, the leather pinching against his wrist, his heart rate speeding when he realized what Gerard was doing. Frank lifted his head up to watch his Master glide around to the other side of the bed. Frank knew what was about to happen when Gerard took hold of his other wrist, doing the same thing again, leaving Frank powerless, completely vulnerable, and totally exposed on the bed. Frank's head flopped back down against the pillows. He was absolutely fucking riveting because he was so open and defenseless. Gerard could do whatever he wanted to him and Frank wouldn’t be able to stop him; Not that he wanted to stop him. Frank’s stomach clenched, his skin tingled with anticipation as Gerard moved.

He stopped at the foot of the bed, looking over Frank, his gaze made Frank's insides burn white-hot. Gerard's eyes roamed over every visible inch of skin, scrutinizing. Frank fought back the whimper in his throat, unable to stop how his legs instinctively went to pull up, attempting to cover himself. Gerard grabbed at Frank's ankles when he moved his legs up, pulling them straight again. Frank didn’t struggle when he was held down, submitting eagerly, practically teetering when he felt cuffs being wrapped around his ankles, locking them together.

“Such a sight,” Gerard spoke proudly, looking at the boy that he had trussed up like some prize, “You do look rather beguiling like this.”

Frank breathed through his nose shakily, trying to hold himself together while he watched Gerard walk over to the glass cabinet. He watched his Master, anticipating what he was going to choose. Sordid and degrading fantasies played out in Frank's mind as the leather pinched at his wrists, adding to the layers of arousal and sheer _want_ to please his Master piled on top of him. He could just imagine Gerard picking out the oversized dildo that sat on the top shelf; the one that was definitely bigger and thicker than his Master. Frank couldn't help but imagine himself getting fucked with that, his asshole clenched at the idea, his whole body shuddered on cue. Gerard didn’t even pay attention to that shelf. Frank kept his mouth shut, he watched intently. Gerard picked out a gag- _The wiffle gag_ , Frank remembered. He squirmed on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, thrumming with anticipation as Gerard walked back over to him, the ball of the gag lay in his fingers,

“Head up, boy,” Gerard ordered and Frank did just that, lifting his head up. In an instant, he thought of something to say, but Gerard stopped him when the gag was pushed into his mouth. Frank muffled out a small noise, an incoherent gurgle that made Gerard smirk while he fastened the gag behind Frank's head. The submissive flopped his head back down against the pillows when Gerard was done fastening the gag, he tried his best to remain still as a small, satisfied smile resided on his Master’s face.

“Now, do you remember your signal, runt?” Gerard's voice changed from its previous soft praise, picking up a sudden edge that had Frank instantly melt. The abasement turned him into a hot mess on the bed, back to the same point of desperation that he had been in before. Frank nodded, showing Gerard three fingers on his restrained right hand. Gerard put his hands behind his back, “Yes, your favored 'hidden middle finger'…”

Frank didn’t want to have to use it. Something in him was telling him that he could do this. If he could withstand and enjoy the spanking he had received earlier then whatever Gerard was about to do to him was going to be something that he wanted to see through. Gerard removed his lilac shirt again, tossing it onto the chair behind him. Frank couldn’t help tugging on the cuffs when Gerard started to take off the few items of clothing he was wearing. He removed his boxers, leaving Frank grunting against the gag in his mouth and wishing that he wasn’t tied up. Wishing that he could just get a hand around his Master.

Gerard climbed onto the bed, kneeling over Frank's bound legs, looking down at him as he ran a hand along his already hardening dick. Frank couldn’t tear his eyes away; completely transfixed and wanting. Gerard stroked his length, hardening in his palm as he tilted his hips to slide through the tight ring of his fingers. Frank whined as he watched, completely powerless, immobilized, and totally mesmerized.

“Look at you. So desperate. My disgusting little boy.” Gerard taunted, still with a hand on his dick. Frank whimpered, the tone going right to his already overworked senses. He wriggled beneath Gerard in a pathetic attempt to move, “You want this, don’t you, boy?”  
  
Frank nodded fervently in response, sucking on the ball gag when he realized he was drooling in floods, unable to stop the spit that was currently working its way down his face. His tongue stud tapped against the gag, making it even harder to control the spit leaking out of his mouth.

“But do you think you deserve this, boy?” Gerard questioned again, watching the way Frank paused. He knew it was all on purpose now; the way his Master kept a hand on his dick, stroking it, making the most sinful noises for Frank's ears. The submissive finally nodded the tiniest of nods, hoping and praying that Gerard would finally give him what he needed so badly. Gerard tilted his head to the side as he thumbed at the leaking slit of his dick slowly, “You really think you deserve this after you tried to take control? Or have you forgotten about your little misadventure?”  
  
Frank felt like kicking himself if he could. That one moment where he had let his need take over, his hunger had brought on this one moment where his Master was continuously winding him up. Frank felt like he couldn’t do anything but refused to nod. It felt too risky to respond, especially when Gerard had all the power in the world over him.

“Don’t think for a second that I was going to let that slide, dog,” Gerard told him, making Frank shrink as he hopelessly pulled on the cuffs, mentally cursing himself. If only he had been able to control himself a little more, but he was reveling in the effect that this was having on him. Frank just lay there, mesmerized by his Master, willing to do anything and everything for him. Gerard brought his hand up to suck on his thumb, tasting himself with a low him in the back of his throat. He looked down at his wide-eyed submissive, “Your ill-considered behavior was egregious and I am very disappointed in you, boy.”

Frank whimpered behind the gag, unable to properly vocalize as another tendril of spit bubbled from the corner of his mouth and began to run towards his ear. Usually, after being told off, he felt as if his tail were between his legs but if anything, Gerard’s words were having the opposite effect on him. He was getting such a kick from the intricate and over-complicated words. He knew that Gerard was admonishing him and he could feel the knot in the pit of his stomach getting tighter because of it.

“This kind of conduct would usually warrant punishment,” Gerard informed Frank, watching his sub's eyes go wide. Gerard smirked, letting go of himself now that he had got Frank’s full attention.

“I know what you want, but _that_ is not even close to what you deserve,” Gerard leaned over the trembling boy sinuously. Frank's breathing faltered when Gerard looked down at him, he tried to look away but he was transfixed. Gerard whispered, “A disobedient pup needs to be put in his place and taught a lesson, don’t you think?”  
  
Frank didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t dare while Gerard looked him over, eyes scanning. The silence around them was deafening. Frank closed his eyes, praying that someone or something was going to take control of himself. He was absolutely thrumming when Gerard spoke again, barely above a sordid whisper.

“Maybe some time in the cage would teach you how to behave,” Gerard decided, watching Frank react to his words, “Certainly a fitting place for such an unscrupulous mongrel who forgets who his Master is the moment that he gets a reward.”  
  
Frank shook his head vehemently, whimpering and trying to speak. Nothing but muffled sounds came out even though he was practically begging for Gerard not to do that to him; he wouldn’t do it again.

“No?” Gerard raised an eyebrow at Frank, watching the boy squirm against his cuffs, “So, you’re deciding on these things now, are you? My, my, I thought you knew who was in charge here. Am I going to have to remind you, boy?”  
  


Frank stilled, he knew that keeping quiet was probably going to be the thing that kept him on the bed and out of the cage. All he wanted was his Master, not some time-out because he had forgotten how to behave. Frank clenched his fists and sucked on the ball gag again, spit was running down and pooling against his collarbone. It had spilled over his skin and trailed in a line down the bed beneath him in a steadily growing puddle. He tried to breathe as evenly as possible through the plastic and remained still, looking away from Gerard.

“You need to learn control, my boy,” Gerard reminded him, his voice softening a fraction as he moved back to kneel over Frank's legs, still looking down at him as he ran a hand through his hair, “One way or another, you will. Especially with what I've done to you now."

Frank frowned at the words, staring up at his Master with genuine confusion because he had no idea how cuffs were supposed to teach him about controlling himself. Gerard saw the question marks that manifested in Frank's eyes and he smirked knowingly, “You really have no idea what I have done, do you?”

Gerard snorted when he saw the innocent furrow in Frank's brow, “To teach you some control and rein in your trigger-happy urges. Do you know what the purpose of that ring is?”  
  
Frank shook his head, and Gerard began to explain as he reached down to run his fingertip over the cockring around Frank's aching dick, “The main purpose of a cock ring is to restrict the blood flow, causing the wearer to have, and maintain, a stronger erection," Gerard paused when Frank let out a small whimper at the touch,

“But it can also delay orgasms. Meaning that you, my boy, won’t be coming until I give you permission. Do you understand?”  
  
Frank's body was screaming out for release. He muffled out a noise, tugging on the cuffs before he realized his actions were completely futile. There was nothing he could do about it and even if he could, Gerard had spoken. Frank caved, breathing out heavily through his nose before nodding, understanding why Gerard was doing this to him.

“I could fuck you for as long as I want and, all the while, you wouldn't be able to come. You wouldn't be able to do anything about it, just lying there all helpless,” Gerard's voice darkened, his words made Frank whimper around the gag. The idea sounded like heaven and hell all at once. Frank wanted Gerard to fuck him for however long he wanted; continuously slam into Frank like his only purpose. It sounded so wrong, but Frank wanted to be used- To please his Master. The only part of it that felt like hell was the part where he wouldn't be able to come. The constant torrent of pleasure that would go on for however long Gerard saw fit.

His Master shifted on the bed and took hold of Frank's ankles. He lifted and bent him, making Frank whine. The cuffs tugged on Frank's skin as Gerard got between his legs. The air left Frank's lungs quickly as he panted, he felt like he couldn't breathe properly as his legs instinctively tried to tighten around his Master's waist. He wanted his Master in him, fucking him again. Frank sucked on the gag, uncaring about the spit leaking down his face. All he cared about was how Gerard was rubbing against him ever so slowly, the lewdest noises left his perfect lips in a teasing lilt. The self-gratification made Frank wish that Gerard would just do something to him. Gerard was grinding against him and it made his mind stutter and fail.

Frank practically melted onto the bed when he felt the blunt nudge of dick against his hole. Frank moaned out against the gag, his head tilted back, his whole body burning up as Gerard continued to press against him. Not pushing in, just rubbing and endlessly teasing. Frank desperately tried to push against Gerard and cried out when Gerard's hand slapped down on his thigh. He realized that he had done wrong and he whimpered, recoiling and wanting to apologize for his mistake. Gerard was so close but so far away from what Frank craved; it was just a natural reaction.

“You’re lucky I want to fuck you,” Gerard spat out, his hand reached into Frank's hair, he tugged harshly and Frank bit down on the gag, he cried out as the pain rang out across his scalp. His eyes watered as Gerard watched him with a look of disgust on his face, “If I didn’t, then your continuous misdemeanors would result in severe punishment. I’ve never known a sub to have such lax control and behavior.”

Frank wanted the muffled noise he made to sound like ‘sorry, sir’, but it hadn’t; all it had done was made him sound pathetic and frantic. Such a slut like Gerard had called him earlier. Maybe he was, but only because of his Master. At least he could put it down to the fact that he was still new to this. He just hoped that Gerard would understand that, too.

“I should leave you like this, dog,” Gerard sneered, clearly tempted by the idea, “Teach you some manners and, hopefully, you will learn that you can’t have it your way. I am your Master and you will do right to remember that, or you will face the consequences when you keep testing me. Do you understand?”

Frank nodded, wincing at the iron grip Gerard still had on his hair. He looked down at Frank, “Now, if I hear one noise from you, you will be in the cage for the night,” Gerard spoke quickly, letting go of Frank's locks. He shifted and bent over Frank, teasing him before pushing in. Frank instantly wanted to moan out as Gerard filled him roughly. Frank winced at the sting he felt because of the lack of fresh lube. He was still somewhat slicked up from earlier, but it wasn’t enough. The burn of the stretch made Frank's whole body turn to putty. The pain and the pleasure rose as Gerard pushed all the way to the hilt in one stroke. Frank silently moaned as he bit down on the gag, fighting against every fiber in his body that was willing him to vocalize just how good it felt to have his Master buried in him again.

“Good boy,” Gerard purred out, watching the way Frank contained himself. Frank writhed beneath his Master, pulling on his wrist cuffs, his ankle binds pinching as he tried to keep his legs up and around Gerard, “You _do_ have it in you to listen to me.”  
  
Frank breathed heavily through his nose as he tried to adjust to being filled so rapidly. He guessed that Gerard wouldn’t give him time to adjust, the niceness had dissipated the moment that Frank first fucked up in the chair. Frank just tried his best as he bit down on the gag. Gerard leaned down and licked a wet stripe from Frank's jaw up to his cheek, making Frank stifle another moan somehow successfully. He had no idea how he was doing it; maybe there was a shred of control in him after all. Or maybe it was the fear of being thrown into the cage under the bed for the night that had silenced Frank. He breathed heavily and quickly, his breathing rapid and huffy as Gerard moved. He nearly pulling out completely before he slammed back in, he watched the way Frank's face contorted while he tried to hold back so many noises. The rough pace was set instantaneously, not giving Frank a chance to grow accustomed to the onslaught of sharp thrusts. His eyes rolled back as he attempted to control his body's natural need to be vocal. The near-dry slide of Gerard's dick in and out of him was sublime. The pain and the pleasure, such a heady combination that had the knots in the pit of Frank's stomach tightening up. He could barely hold himself together but the silicone ring that sat snugly around the base of his dick made the orgasm that was buried in him just hum.

And eventually, after God knows how long because Frank had no idea, it became too much. Gerard had kept up the constant and brutal pace for what felt like forever. Every now and again, through the tears, Frank had dared to look up at his Master. He could see the sheen of sweat that was covering him and the dark haze over his eyes, the sight alone made Frank want to come, but he just couldn’t get past the barrier that was stopping him. His whole body screamed out for what was barred. He couldn’t just keep him like this forever and it would be worth it. That was what Frank kept telling himself as Gerard continued, his desperately rapid thrusts made Frank want to cry out from behind the gag, so lost in the built-up static in him.

Frank was sobbing silently, sniffling and slobbering because he could barely take it anymore. He felt like he was dying, his whole body tensing up as the need started to overtake every other thought he had. The sound of Gerard over him, the feel of him thrusting nearly-dry, the skin against skin; Frank was on the brink but held back. He clenched his fists as he tried to hold onto the tiny shred of sanity in him that was somehow holding him together. He pulled on his wrist cuffs, his head tilted back as he hoped and prayed, as he needed and wanted to demand. He had to remain silent and to let Gerard use him, which, in all honesty, turned Frank on more. He was past the point of it feeling good, he felt over-sensitive but without the orgasm coming before it. Every muscle in his body felt taut and strained, his skin tingled with uncomfortable heat.

“Such a good boy. My good boy,” Gerard panted out, his voice rough and sounding like pure sex to Frank. The submissive closed his eyes when the bubbling heat swirled and twisted in his gut because of the way his Master sounded. Thank God for the gag that stifled his noises, it did nothing to stop the intense amounts of saliva that clung to his skin and made him feel so sticky. It had mingled with his tears and had run over his jaw and neck, his hair damp against his nape. There was nothing he could do about it.

The way Gerard looked at him when he was like that, he looked like he wanted to devour him. Frank would more than willingly let him do if it meant that he would be able to come at the end. Gerard tilted his head to nip gently at Frank's calf that was resting on his shoulder, “So well behaved. I think someone deserves to come, don’t you?”  
  
Frank stopped himself from nodding; something in him made him think that it was a trick question. He didn’t nod and he just waited not-so-patiently, seeing if his lack of response was the right thing to do or whether Gerard was going to give him permission to respond.

“Very good,” Gerard praised him sweetly, “Conduct like this deserves recompention.”

Frank didn’t know what Gerard meant by that with his articulate words, but he caught on pretty quickly when he felt fingers gripping at the ring around the base of his dick. Gerard pulled and slid the ring off before it was discarded on the bed. He picked his rhythm back up as Frank started to feel the once-blocked off swell in his gut starting to grow. He knew what was coming and he was more than ready for it. Frank felt his thighs start to shake and he tried to breathe, the overly-tight coils in the pit of his stomach began to unravel. The heat blossomed and spread, hotter than he imagined; it felt more than he expected. Something that Frank had never felt before. The surge in him grew and grew, overtaking any form of orgasm he ever had before when it hit him like electricity passing through his whole body. From his curling toes to his clenched fists, it felt indescribable, like multiple orgasms all at once hitting him and knocking him stunned. The intensity was more than he expected as his whole body lurched on the bed, warm come streaked his stomach and chest as he came, still fighting back the urge to make a sound. His jaw clenched as he bit down hard on the gag, breathing through his nose as the orgasm continued to course through him for longer than he imagined, sending shockwaves rippling through his whole body.

Frank screwed his eyes shut so tight that he could see colors behind his eyelids, sobbing soundlessly as bubbles of saliva ran in a freshly globbed tendril over his ignited skin. He had never come that hard in his life; never before had he felt his mind shatter into so many pieces. It still hadn’t tried to piece itself back together because Gerard was still going. He hadn’t stopped, and the overworked nerves in Frank had him clenching and wanting to stop but also not. It felt too good to stop, even though he was starting to feel sore. He rode out the orgasmic fizzles as he was praised, thankful toward his Master for fucking him through his blissful release.

Frank felt like he was going to go limp, completely wiped out but hanging onto everything while Gerard chased his release. He had a vice grip on Frank's legs that were over his shoulders, his teeth gritted and jaw clenched. His thrusts were growing erratic and stuttered as he closed in on his own climax. Frank savored the furrow in his Master's brow, mesmerized by how perfection dripped from every feature.

Gerard came a few short, sharp thrusts later, his whole body tensed while he released, spilling into his submissive a second time that day. He relaxed slightly, panting as he pulled out before collapsing onto his submissive. Frank didn’t even pay attention for a second, totally spaced fucked out, staring up at the ceiling above him. He wasn't even properly focused on anything until he felt the bed shift next to him. His legs were moved up as Gerard climbed out from between them. He looked away from the ceiling when he felt the cuff around his left wrist being unfastened. Then the right when Gerard leaned over him. Frank instantly went to rub his red wrists, lifting his head up when the gag was unfastened. His mouth felt sore; Frank wiped the drying spit from his face, still panting quietly, still recovering from the intensity.

Gerard unfastened Frank's ankles and set the cuffs aside before he came to a stop in front of his submissive. He tucked a hand under Frank's damp chin and tilted his head up. They locked eyes and Frank immediately felt as though he should have looked away but he didn't, he couldn't. Gerard bent down, kissing Frank chastely, a bare brush on his swollen lips to signify that he had done well.


	43. You Also Seem to Do Somewhat of a One-Eighty

"Tell me how you feel."

"I'm okay," Frank whispered, his voice cracking from disuse. He cringed at the sound as Gerard pulled his boxers up and turned to face him again. Gerard's face cracked with a tiny smile as he put an arm around Frank to help him up from the bed.

"Let's get you fixed up a little, hmm?" Gerard offered as he helped Frank across the room. He opened the door and walked into Frank's bedroom, guiding the submissive into the ensuite bathroom. Frank felt goosebumps rise on his skin as his eyes threatened to close. He watched through a molasses-thick gaze as Gerard fiddled with the knobs of the shower, getting the water running. Gerard turned to look at him with a pointed gaze and gestured to the torrent, a clear indication that Frank was meant to be under it.

He slipped around the glass separator and stuck his leg under the water, grimacing at the temperature. He adjusted the water to a slightly less hellish degree and stepped in. He sighed out at the heated patter of water over his skin, closing his eyes. The door closed and Frank opened his eyes, wiping water from his face, when he yelped and looked up to see Gerard staring down at him.

"What, did you think you were showering alone?" Gerard smiled slightly as he put his hands on Frank's shoulders to shift him over, "This is how we bond during our aftercare, Frank. I look after you. I wouldn't leave you alone."

"Oh," Frank whispered as arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer and right up against Gerard's wet chest. He closed his eyes as a wet hand stroked over his slicked-back hair, "Yeah, I like this more.”

“I have no doubt.” Gerard whispered quietly, “I hope you’re aware that not all aftercare is a shower. Like previously when I put the lotion on your skin. It’s all about making sure you’re okay.”

“This hot water is still making my ass burn a little.” Frank replied as he looked up at his Master, “I mean, the aloe stuff did help but it’s still a little… Tender.”

“Poor boy’s whining about a spanking.” Gerard taunted in a genial mocking tone. Frank looked up with a scowl to see Gerard trying to hide a smirk. He glanced down at the boy before adding, “Just you wait until you’re given a thorough whipping, dear boy. A spanking would feel much akin to a light breeze.”

“Jesus.” Frank mumbled as he rotated himself in Gerard’s strong arms, pushing his back against the latter’s chest. He closed his eyes contently, tilting his head as Gerard peppered his shoulder with soft, idle kisses, “You’re a lot cuddlier after sex.”

“Am I?”

“Well, look at you.” Frank muttered as he leaned back fully, putting almost all of his weight on the tall man behind him, “Mr. Thunderface is loving me because he’s recently repainted my insides.”

“A beautiful analogy.”

“Why thank you.” Frank sighed as Gerard moved, straightening the submissive back onto his feet before he turned him around. Gerard pursed his lips as he turned to pick up a bright red bar of soap. Frank’s eyes widened with surprise as Gerard began to lather a sponge with the perfumed bar, “You’re gonna wash me?”

“I think it’s only fair that we take turns, hmm?” Gerard asked as he lifted Frank’s arm and began washing his skin with firm but tender flux. Frank couldn’t help but smile at the richly sweet smell that curled into his nostrils. He watched Gerard’s hand as he rubbed the sponge in circles over Frank’s skin. He looked up as he washed Frank’s chest, “Tell me what you’re thinking, boy.”

“I like it when you’re naked.” Frank replied unabashedly, grinning as he looked at his Master’s quirked eyebrow, “You asked.”

“Your lack of a vocal filter is astounding sometimes.” Gerard whispered softly as he moved the sponge along to was Frank’s other arm, scrubbing over his fingers.

“I thought you loved my mouth.” Frank pouted as he was turned around and pushed gently out from under the jetstream of water. He looked down at the water splashing on his feet as Gerard began to clean his shoulders.

“I cherish that mouth of yours, as it were.” Gerard stated, his lips far too close all of a sudden. Frank felt his heart stop in his chest at the proximity, a hand on his hip made him swallow instinctively, “But the things that come out of it are very different from what you do with the things that go into it.”

“I bet.” Frank replied shakily as Gerard stepped back to continue, dropping down onto his haunches as he continued to clean his submissive’s skin.

“Tell me, boy.” Gerard took Frank by the thighs and turned him back around to begin scrubbing over the front of his legs, “You just experienced your first scene. I take it you’ve never experienced anything like that previously?”

Frank couldn’t help the small snort that immediately left him. Gerard glanced up when the sharp sound reverberated through the shower. Frank rolled his eyes, “Yeah, right. Like I’ve experienced anything remotely similar to what’s just happened. Did you not see what I was previously dating? He’d turn whiter than Nicole Kidman if I even so much as suggested my mouth on his asshole.”

“That’s still confounding.” Gerard frowned as he straightened up to pull Frank under the water, letting the soap wash from his skin, “Your previous sex life sounds like it would put someone to sleep.”

“Yeah, it usually did. Me.” Frank muttered as he took the sponge from Gerard’s outstretched hand, lathering more soap onto it with his fingers, “He got upset because I wanted to eat cream off of him.”

Gerard’s eyebrows rose exponentially, his face a maw of genuine surprise as Frank started to clean him, starting with his arms just as Gerard had done. Frank couldn’t help but blush a little when he noted the pale color of his Master’s skin and how exquisitely perfect his arms were. They weren’t overly muscled or chiseled and toned but Frank knew just how powerful they were; the thought had his mind fade over for a moment until he resurfaced, realizing he had stopped moving.

“Just cream? Nothing else?”

“Just cream.” Frank pursed his lips, his blush darkening as he soaped over his Master’s chest and flat stomach, staring way too hard, “But I liked it.”

“You liked the cream fiasco or your first scene?”

“Definitely the scene.” Frank muttered, “I really enjoyed it. It was all new for me, even the blowjob.”

“I could see so.” Gerard’s tone took a shaded edge to it and Frank blanched when he remembered what he had done. Frank ducked his head down as he slowly went onto his knees in front of Gerard to clean his lower half. Frank paused when he realized how he was positioned. He glanced up at his Master from under his lashes and saw Gerard looking back at him, their eyes locking in a gaze that shared an unspoken understanding. Frank let out the softest whimper, his eyes darting between Gerard’s gaze and what was so close to his face. Frank knew that he had literally just come, he knew that his body probably couldn’t recharge that quickly, but he couldn’t help the flutters that sparked in his lower stomach when he looked at his Master’s dick.

He so badly wanted to lean in and taste Gerard all over again, even if it didn’t end in a full blow job. He was astounded by the hunger and need to be around his Master’s length, surprised by himself and his earnest urge to please. And it was as if Gerard had read his mind, his hand sliding through Frank’s wet hair to tilt his head back, “I know that look. Don't even think about it, runt.”

“I-I didn’t-”

“You need to compose yourself, boy.” Gerard chided, “I feel like you need to realize that just because we’re naked, it doesn’t necessarily mean we’re going to have sex.”

“I-” Frank flushed darkly, his eyes widening as he realized that Gerard had caught on to his exact thoughts, “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, sweet pup.” Gerard tugged on Frank’s hair pointedly, slicking his fingers through his locks, “But we need to work on your self-control.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come on now, boy.” Gerard leaned back against the tiled wall of the shower and lifted his leg up, “Finish what you’ve started and we can get out.”

“Yes, sir.” Frank flinched at the pain of the shower tiles on his knees. He didn't quite realize how much the porcelain floor had been cutting into his skin until he moved. Frank held Gerard's foot in his hand, scrubbing over his Master's leg with as much deliberate efficiency that he could muster. He repeated the process with Gerard's other leg and looked up with a smile, proud of his work.

"Very thorough." Gerard snickered lightly as he helped Frank gingerly back up onto his feet. He turned off the faucet and reached out, grabbing one of the beige fluffy towels that were hanging on the nearby rack. He wrapped the towel around his waist before he stepped out to grab a second one.

Frank smiled as he took the towel from Gerard and secured it over his hips. Gerard took his hand and led him out of the bathroom toward his bedroom when Frank spoke, "Sir?"

"Yes, boy?"

"Is the aftercare done?"

"Not quite." Gerard pulled Frank into his bedroom and took the towel from around the boy's hips, drying his arms and shoulders. Frank blushed as he was dried, biting on his lip as he reveled in the attention, "Frank?"

"Sir?"

"Was there a time, at all today, that you considered safewording?" Gerard asked as he walked around his submissive to dry the planes of his back and down over his ass with a delicate touch.

"Honestly," Frank sighed as Gerard dried his legs, "It crossed my mind right in the beginning but just for a second. I didn't actually want to but it was more… The surprise of it all than the pain or anything."

"Understandable." Gerard nodded as he came to a stop in front of Frank with a smirk in his lips. He reached down with the towel and gently dried Frank's hips. Frank stifled a whimper when he felt the material of the towel skate over his dick and between his legs.

"Oh, fuck." Frank whispered softly, his eyes widening, "Sir, I-I didn't even ask… How are you? Are you okay?"

Gerard looked up and put a hand into the back of Frank's hair, bending him over a fraction before he draped the towel over Frank's head. He yelped lightly in fright at the harsh touch, staring down at his Master's feet as Gerard began towel-drying his hair. After a moment of vigorous fluffing that had Frank almost purring, he was lifted back up into a standing position. He stared up at his Master with a dopey smile, "Thanks."

"Your adrenaline is wearing off." Gerard commented, "I can see it in your eyes. You need a nap, my boy."

"I…" Frank frowned, "I do, don't I?"

"It would be highly advised." Gerard grabbed a pair of boxers and bent down, holding them open. Frank stepped into the material and pulled them up himself, "Sit on the bed for me, boy. Back to me, if you would."

Frank nodded wordlessly and climbed up onto the tall mattress of his Master's bed, sitting on the sex-rumpled sheets with his legs crossed. He glanced around when Gerard came to stand behind him, his eyes closing as Gerard began to brush his hair slowly. Frank involuntarily leaned in to Gerard's hand in his neck and jaw, sighing at the touch as his damp hair was brushed back and untangled with surprising ease.

"To answer your previous question," Gerard spoke, his voice a shade quieter than it had been, "I'm very okay. I'm proud of you for accomplishing so much today."

"Thank you, sir." Frank stifled a yawn, "Wanted to make you happy."

"That you did." Gerard ran the wooden brush through Frank's hair one last time before he set it down on the bedside table, his thumb stroking over his submissive's cheek, "Get into bed, boy. Get comfortable."

"Yes, sir."

"You mention how I change after sex," Gerard noted as Frank climbed underneath the comforter. He pulled the blanket up to his chin, his legs against his chest. Frank watched Gerard dry himself as he continued to speak, "You also seem to do somewhat of a one-eighty."

"I do?"

"You're usually so rambunctious," Gerard commented as he slid himself into a pair of black sweatpants. He went to stand in front of a mirror and began brushing his own hair with a completely different hairbrush, "You're so obedient and timid at the moment. It's startling."

Frank didn't reply, his eyes unmoving from his Master, completely engulfed as he stared at him in awe. He watched how Gerard would run the sleek black brush through his fiery locks, he watched how Gerard's back muscles would rise and tauten as his arm moved. Gerard stopped what he was doing and Frank looked up, his eyes locking with Gerard's gaze in the reflection of the mirror. Frank felt his cheeks grow warm when he realized he had been caught staring. The wave of emotions that overtook his insides had him feeling breathless and faint, emotions that he didn’t understand- That he didn’t want to comprehend just yet. It was so overwhelming, and if he had any sort of mental capacity left, he would have attempted to understand them.

He pulled the comforter slightly higher as he lay back against the headboard, his eyes still locked with Gerard as the latter stared at him in the mirror. Gerard turned to look at him and put his hands on his hips, "And all that?"

"Nothing." Frank mumbled, his voice muffled from within the blanket, "I swear."

"It looked an awful lot like staring, boy." Gerard fluffed his damp hair with his hand, "Is there something unappealing that would warrant your incessant gawking?"

"Fuck no." Frank whispered as he dropped the blanket from his hands and leaned forward, "The exact opposite."

"Oh, really now?" Gerard's lips tugged at one corner, his eyes alight with devilish mischief, "I think you're in a daze. You need some sleep."

"I don't wanna sleep."

"Is that because you're being stubborn?" Gerard asked simply as he walked around to his side of the bed and sat down, "Or are you so adamant to remain awake simply for my benefit?"

"What'll you do if I sleep?"

"Who said I wouldn't sleep, too?" Gerard countered as he slid underneath the blanket, "What if I, too, felt just as physically exhausted from my own physical exhaustion."

Frank looked down, guilt welling in his chest, "Didn't think of that. I'm sorry, sir."

"Quiet, boy. Lay down and rest." Gerard lay down on the bed and pulled the blanket up before he reached over to grab a worn paperback novel from his bedside table. He opened it and tucked the bookmark right at the back of the dust jacket. He looked at the page and then at Frank, who was staring at him, unblinking, "Can I assist you with something, pup?"

"What you reading?"

"War and Peace." Gerard held the book in one hand and glanced over to see Frank edge closer. He sighed dramatically and lifted his arm without a moment of hesitation. Frank scooted closer, curling himself up against his Master, breathing in the scent as the mere proximity and skin-on-skin contact seemed to abate his selling anxiety.

"What's it about?"

"’War and Peace’ broadly focuses on Napoleon’s invasion of Russia in 1812." Gerard explained as he closed the book to show Frank the blue cover, "It follows Pierre Bezukhov, the illegitimate son of a count who is fighting for his inheritance and yearning for spiritual fulfillment; Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, who leaves his family behind to fight in the war against Napoleon; and Natasha Rostov, the beautiful young daughter of a nobleman who intrigues both men."

"Uh-huh." Frank uttered as he closed his eyes, "Tell me more."

"As Napoleon’s army invades, Tolstoy brilliantly follows characters from diverse backgrounds; peasants and nobility, and civilians and soldiers as they struggle with the problems unique to their era, their history, and their culture. And as the novel progresses, these characters transcend their specificity, becoming some of the most moving, and human, figures in world literature."

"...'S cool." Frank barely managed as he felt himself slowly slipping into sleep, wrapping an arm around Gerard's stomach to keep him close, his head resting just above the crook of Gerard's armpit. The last thing that his fatigued brain could process was the arm around his back that pulled him in tighter and the hand that was stroking barely-there circles in the skin of his hip.


	44. You Think You Could Get Away with Trying to Take Control?

Frank stood in the office hallway that Monday afternoon, his eyes scanning over the spreadsheets that Sarah had given him to process through into the system. He looked at the clipboard in his hand, biting on his lip when he realized it, "Sarah?"

"What?" She asked curtly, looking up from the file in her hands as she stood in the doorway of the filing room.

"I, uh..." Frank tried to ignore the weird look she gave him; the condescending stare as though he were stupid, "There's something missing."

"I checked it three times." She rolled her eyes, "There's nothing missing."

"Sarah..." Frank walked over, "It goes from page seven to page eleven."

"No way." She muttered softly before snatching the clipboard from him, "No, no, no..."

"Sorry." Frank apologized for some reason, watching the frown set in her dark brows as she went through all of the pages frantically.

"Where the fuck?" She muttered under her breath, "Fuck, where are they?"

"I don't-" Frank shook his head as he looked around when he saw Gerard's door open out of his periphery and he swallowed. He glanced up to see Gerard standing expectantly in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, looking absolutely delectable in his suit. Although it wasn't a matching suit, it looked way too good on him. Frank had asked to dress Gerard that morning, grinning in surprise when Gerard had said 'yes', telling his submissive that it was a rarity and that it was more of a reward than anything else.

Frank had picked out a pair of tight black slacks for his master with a white button-up that was striped with thin vertical black, a grey tweed blazer with thin black plaid went over the white shirt and to top it all off, Frank had picked out a blood orange colored tie that was littered with blue and white speckles over it. Frank handed Gerard a pair of black dress boots and matching red-orange socks. Gerard eyed the outfit, smirking as he stood there in a beige towel, his pale skin still dripping with warm shower rivulets. Frank couldn't deny just how good Gerard looked in a suit, almost just as good as he did in absolutely nothing. Frank looked at his Master again, biting on his lip when he looked again at Sarah, who was in the filing room and looking through a filing cabinet.

Gerard merely raised his hand, his hand lowered at his side, palm facing out with his index finger pointed at the floor in a signal that Frank knew he should remember and he wracked his brain, thinking back to the night before when Gerard had sat teaching him Dominant hand signals.

_"Now, boy." Gerard smiled as he sat across from his submissive on his bed that evening, "A bit of submissive training to end your day. What do you think?"_

_"Yes, sir." Frank readjusted on the mattress, "What kind of training?"_

_"Hand signals, boy." Gerard began, "Hand signals are a sign of nonverbal communication between a Dominant and their sub. Which means that I can give you instructions without saying a word."_

_"That- I mean..." Frank closed his mouth, realizing he didn't have permission to speak, zipping his lips shut as Gerard gave him a small head nod of approval._

_"There are quite a few, and a lot of Dominants create their own hand signals, for their submissives but I prefer the common ones. You look like you have a question, boy?"_

_Frank nodded and Gerard waved a hand, giving him permission to speak, "How many are there?"_

_"There are..." Gerard looked up for a moment, thinking as he counted on his fingers, biting on his bottom lip before he looked at his submissive, "About twenty."_

_"I have to learn twenty?" Frank asked incredulously, blurting out all of a sudden at the thought, his eyes widening, "How am I-"_

_"Hey!" Gerard snapped suddenly, making Frank whimper and recoil at the raised voice in his direction, his leg lifting involuntarily, "One more unpermitted sound from you and there will be consequences, mongrel."_

_"Sorry, sir." Frank whimpered and looked down, hands curled sheepishly in his lap._

_"That counts as unprecedented, boy." Gerard reached up, giving the side of Frank's head a swat. Frank let out a hiss, whining at the hard whack to his head but he dare not touch, ignoring how the slap resonated through all of his insides, dick included, "You like that, boy?"_

_Frank stifled an answer, stifled the whimper that wanted to follow suit, and kept his gaze down on the bed in front of him._

_"Tell me, pup," Gerard ordered firmly and Frank felt the blush sinking into his system and rise up into his cheeks._

_"Y-Yes, sir," Frank whispered, the degradation still ringing in the forefront of his brain._

_"Absolutely abhorrent, dog." Gerard muttered again, taking Frank's jaw in a firm grip, forcing him to look up, his eyes darting away from his Master, submitting to him as though he were melting, Gerard's fingertips digging into Frank's teeth. Frank swallowed hard, his eyes looking into the stern and set gaze of his Dominant that was glaring back. He let go of Frank's face harshly, his hand pushing Frank's head aside roughly. Frank withheld the whine in his throat at the hard turn in his neck from Gerard's forceful push._

_"You like it when I push you around, dog?" Gerard asked, his voice sickly sweet and condescending as though Frank were merely a peasant and he was the King. In Frank's eyes, however, that's exactly how he saw it. Gerard was the King of Frank's world, he was the be-all and end-all of Frank's universe, and he wanted nothing less than to worship Gerard on the highest throne, kiss his feet and do his every bidding._

_Frank shuddered in a breath, "Y-Yes, I-I do, sir."_

_"You want me to push you around?" Gerard crooned mockingly, hitting Frank's head again, slapping the other side swiftly, light slaps that hit Frank's head around like a pinball. His cheeks continued to grow hotter as the humiliation continued and, God knows, he couldn't understand why he was both loving and hating it. Frank gasped softly, whimpering as Gerard clipped his head one more time before stuffing a hand into his thick locks, tugging hard, "Tell you what, boy... Why don't we use this as an incentive for you? We learn these hand signals. If you do well, then how about your Master roughs you up a bit, hmm?"_

_"O-Oh..." Frank gasped softly, "Yes, sir. Please-”_

_"Good boy." Gerard let go of Frank's hair and pushed him back up into a straight position, Frank's heart racing in his chest as he adjusted his red collar and looked at Gerard's hands._

_"We're gonna do the basic ones initially First one." Gerard stated sternly as he held up his right hand, the back of his hand facing Frank with his index finger being the only finger extended lifted, "This, boy. Means that I want your attention."_

_"Attention." Frank muttered softly, nodding, "Yes, sir."_

_"This," Gerard raised his other hand, mimicking the other before he crossed his two index fingers into an 'x', "Means 'silence'."_

_Frank nodded, "Silence."_

_"This particular one," Gerard held his left index finger up before twirling it in a circle, "Means 'I want you to get naked’ for me."_

_"Yes, sir," Frank whispered softly, nodding avidly, trying to pay attention when all he wanted was to leap forward and grind on Gerard and suck on his fingers, the thought having Frank fade out for a second before he sternly pulled himself back into reality just in time to see Gerard's next signal._

_Frank looked as Gerard held both hands up, curled as though he were holding a lengthy pipe, "Know what this means, pup?"_

_"N-No, sir."_

_"It means 'suck', dog," Gerard muttered and Frank swallowed, nodding at the thought when Gerard did the next hand signal. The Dominant lifted his left index finger up before pointing it down toward the ground, "This means ‘I want you to come to me’."_

_"Come..." Frank whispered under his breath, nodding hazily, biting on his lip, "Got it."_

_"This," Gerard's left hand curled, thumb and index finger now both pointing to the ground almost like a short-letter 'n', "Is 'bend over'."_

_"O-Oh..." Frank swallowed, trying to sound nonchalant about the idea of bending over for his Master._

_"Kneel down," Gerard explained as he pointed his right index and middle finger down at the ground._

_"Right, sir. Kneel down."_

_Gerard curled his left hand into the pipe-grip again, his other hand coming up, index finger resting on the very rim of his thumb. He looked at Frank with a smirk, "Sex, boy. This means 'sex'. This means I want it and I want you. Now. I do this and you come running, got it?"_

_"Y-Yes..." Frank nodded vigorously, "Fuck, yes."_

_Gerard pointed his left-hand index and middle fingers down yet again with the only difference being that his fingers were parted and not together like before, "This means I want you to spread your legs, runt. Got it?"_

_"Crystal clear, Master," Frank whispered softly in reply, his mouth slightly drier than when they had started this knowledgeable exercise._

_"And this," Gerard's left-hand index and middle fingers created a circle with his three other fingers slightly aloft, "Means 'well done'."_

_"Yes." Frank nodded, "W-Well done."_

_"What does this mean, Frank?" Gerard asked as he held his index finger up and swirled it slowly. Frank stared at it for a moment before he looked at Gerard._

_"I-You want me to get n-naked, right, sir?"_

_"That's my good boy." Gerard urged and Frank withheld the wide grin that wanted to spread to his lips, "Would you like to continue?"_

_"Yes, sir."_

_Gerard turned his right hand to point the ground with his index finger, palm facing Frank, "This means ‘come here immediately and stand on point’."_

_Frank frowned, small frown knitting in his brows, "O-On point?"_

_"Essentially, I want you to stand at my side like a good boy, Frank." Gerard crooned, voice dripping the warmest honey; honey that was rolling over the sharpest blade of a deadly knife that would wound you with the lightest touch._

_"R- Right." Frank whispered, nodding, "At your side... On the… Right, right?"_

_"That's my boy." Gerard rewarded, taking Frank's hand and giving it a kiss, nipping at the sensitive pad of Frank's fingertip, "Want to keep on going?"_

_"Ye-Yeah. I mean... Yes, sir." Frank corrected, hissing in pain as Gerard bit down on his finger in a nonverbal warning at his mistake. Frank held his finger, nursing it with over-dramatization._

_"If I do this," Gerard ignored his submissive and held his right-hand index finger up, palm facing Frank, "I want you to listen. Don't speak."_

_"Right, sir."_

_Gerard lowered his right hand, palm facing outward with his index and middle finger down, "Kneel on the ground with your eyes down."_

_"I understand, Master," Frank whispered when Gerard lifted his right hand up again, still palm facing out and he crossed his index and middle finger._

_"Any guesses?"_

_"Uh-" Frank bit on his lip for a second, studying his Master's fingers. He looked at the crossed pointer and middle finger, he looked at Gerard's thumb as it rested on the knuckle of his ring finger, "Shit. I just used that for jinxing as a kid. I didn't know it meant anything."_

_"In our lifestyle, it means that I want you silent. And silent until I instruct otherwise." Gerard explained simply, "You see, each one has its own description and, although it may be similar to another, it is different."_

_"The other one included listening, this one is just quiet." Frank offered up, shrugging as a glimmer of hope at his answer rose up._

_"Very good, boy. Excellent." Gerard smiled proudly as he pointed his palm outward and his index and middle finger pointed down but parted, "This?"_

_"You showed this one," Frank frowned, "That's kneel, isn't it?"_

_"Yes, it is kneel..." Gerard nodded, "But I showed you this," Gerard closed his fingers,_

_"And this one..." Frank asked as Gerard turned his hand back outward like it was before._

_"'Kneel down with your eyes down and not at me' was first but this is different." Gerard explained and Frank nodded, "This is 'kneel with your legs spread, arms behind your back, with your eyes down'. Understand?"_

_"Yes, sir."_

_Gerard raised his right hand, pointing lazily to the door with his index finger, "This means that I want you to leave the room but remain nearby."_

_"I see, Master." Frank nodded as Gerard did a similar hand signal from earlier, his index finger and thumb pointing downwards in a familiar 'n' shape, "That's bend over, isn't it?"_

_"Ah, you see, pup... That's this one." Gerard smiled as he widened the gap between his fingers, "But the one I'm showing you has an all the more narrowed gap. Therefore, it means something different, boy."_

_"Oh." Frank flushed at his idiocy, "Right. What does it mean, sir?"_

_"'Sit on the floor'."_

_"Yes, sir." Frank smiled, "Got it."_

_"That's my smart boy." Gerard smiled, pointing to the door again with his right-hand two fingers almost like a ‘gun’ gesture, palm facing Frank, "This means that I'm not impressed with your lack of obedience, boy. It means that you haven't done what I've asked. In essence, this hand signal is telling you 'to go and do what I've told you'."_

_"Like yelling but not." Frank nodded, "I get you."_

_"You better hope I don't have to use this one, boy. Or else a punishment follows." Gerard warned, his voice reaching that familiar tone that had Frank shy down like a meek puppy._

_"Yes, sir," Frank whispered, avoiding Gerard's gaze._

_"This," Gerard continued, his left palm outward and down, his four fingers pointed to the floor with his thumb tucked in, "This is for you to get on your hands and knees."_

_Frank chuckled, smiling, "Alright."_

_"This is an alternate for 'I want you naked'," Gerard signed, his right index finger up when he signed a 'z' zigzag in the air, "Altogether naked for me, understand?"_

_"So, there's two for that one only?" Frank frowned, "Why?"_

_"Just is," Gerard smiled, "The other is the original but perhaps there is a difference. The other is to get naked and this is to remove your clothes. Perhaps you have something else on that isn't clothing that I would like you to keep on your body. Then I would sign for clothes only and not for total nudity."_

_"Oh, I see." Frank smiled, tucking his hands into his lap, "How many are left, sir?"_

_"Just one, boy." Gerard pointed his left hand down, palm facing outward with his four fingers down but spread out, "This is 'on your elbows and knees, chest down and ass up'."_

_"Specific.”_

_"And something with which you seem to have no issue at all,” Gerard commented, eyeing Frank who instantly went pink._

_Frank bit his lip, "Thank you, sir."_

_"I'm still glad that you've started taking your compliments,” Gerard stated as he got up and walked over to the middle of the floor of his room. He looked at his submissive before he lowered his right hand to the side, palm out with two fingers pointing down. He looked at Frank pointedly, the latter looked at his Master’s hand and jumped into action. He skittered over, dropping onto his knees with his eyes on Gerard's bare feet._

_"Such a good boy." Gerard crooned, grabbing Frank suddenly by the top of his head, hand curled in his mottled-brunette hair, forcing him to look up. Frank cried out at the sharp pain in his scalp that made his eyes water, his teeth gnashing together as he tried to compensate for the pain. Gerard let go, swatting Frank's cheek with the back of his hand before his hand lowered again, his four fingers spread out and pointed down. Frank complied, going down on his elbows, chest to the floor at his Master's feet._

_"Good boy." Gerard muttered, rubbing Frank's face with the bridge of his foot slowly, "Kiss my foot, dog.”_

_Frank sucked in a breath, looking up at Gerard for a second, seeing the dominance in his eyes that made him look down, whimpering as he kissed the top of Gerard's foot._

_"Such an obedient little runt."_

Frank stared at Gerard's hand and nodded, looking at Sarah and then at Gerard, realizing Gerard wanted him there and now. Frank glanced at Sarah one more time and then turned, scurrying into Gerard's office. Gerard closed the door behind Frank before he grabbed his submissive by the wrist and pushed him down against the desk, slamming his face against the wood. Frank grunted at the pain in his cheekbone, gasping in silent shudders at Gerard's violence, the feeling rushing straight to his pants.

"I saw you outside in the hallway, boy. I couldn't stop thinking about you and your valiant escapades last night, pushing me around and using me to get yourself off." Gerard was leaning over Frank, body pressed tight as his lips ghosted over Frank's ear, a hand holding Frank's wrist tightly behind his back, "And then I thought to myself that maybe I've been far too lenient with you; that you've been taking way too many chances, you concupiscent mongrel."

"I-" Frank began when Gerard's hand connected with his head again. Frank let out a small and almost-silent scream.

"Did I fucking say you could speak, you obstreperous reprobate?" Gerard hissed as Frank started to whimper, his eyes squeezed shut as he panted.

"No, sir."

"Then why the fuck did you think it okay to interrupt me, boy?" Gerard's hand came down, slapping the side of Frank's hip harshly, gripping it iron-clad with his fingers, "I'm going out for two minutes to oversee something and when I get back I want you over my desk on that side with your pants down and your attitude substantially improved upon. Understand?"

"Y-Yes, Master- Sir- I- Yes." Frank babbled breathlessly as Gerard pointed at the other side of the desk. He grabbed his submissive by the scruff and pulled him up before forcibly shoving him around the side of the desk. Frank stumbled and looked at Gerard, who had already calmly opened the door and walked out, his grey tweed blazer billowed slightly behind him at his set pace. Frank swallowed hard and stared at the door, wondering whether or not he should have closed it.

Frank looked down at the desk and peered out, seeing no one in the periphery when his hands shakily went up to his belt, unfastening it and his black slacks. He froze, whimpering as he held his pants up and scurried over to the door, closing it. He turned, locking the door that led to his and Derek's office. Frank walked back over to his spot behind the desk where he pushed his pants and underwear down around his ankles. He pulled off his blazer and set it aside, the thick material too tight on his body. Frank carefully lowered himself over the desk, a hand slipping beneath it to his dick, sucking in a breath as he felt himself hardening in his own grip, his erection had already made itself known the moment Gerard had grabbed him. Frank shuddered another small and muffled gasp passed his lips as his knees buckled, his fingers tightening their grip around his dick, stroking himself as he tried to breathe, waiting so patiently for his Master.

Frank heard the door open and he whimpered, frowning as he kept his eyes closed, hearing the soft tap of Gerard's shoes on the floor, silent as he crossed the carpet. Frank felt a hand caress his hair and he opened his eyes to see Gerard standing at his side, looking him over. Frank instantly dropped his hand from his dick just in case, rearranging on his feet, shifting his weight.

"Good boy." Gerard whispered, his hand running from Frank's hair and down his back before the other hand joined, his icy hands stroking over Frank's ass slowly, kneading and teasing when there was a shift in weight over Frank and hot breath in his ear, "You're my needy little whore, aren't you, Frank?"

"Y-Yes I am, sir." Frank swallowed, nodding shakily, "Yours."

"You bet your ass." Gerard bit down on Frank's earlobe, nipping a little harder than necessary and causing Frank to cringe at the pain and gasp quietly. Gerard raised his hand beside Frank's face, his index and middle fingers raised and crossed, "You know what this means, boy?"

"Q-Quiet until you say, sir." Frank swallowed.

"And now you keep it that way, understand?" Gerard warned, "Or I put you over my knee later."

Frank nodded in reply, biting on his lip as Gerard's weight over him shifted away, hands sliding over Frank's ass, heels of his hands resting on the back of Frank's upper thigh. Frank swallowed at the flat feel of Gerard's hands on his skin, stroking as his hands gripped Frank's flesh. Then it was when Frank realized where Gerard was, the warm breath on his thighs, so close but so far. Frank could feel Gerard's mouth on his asscheek, tongue flat, and warm on his skin in surprising contrast to his cold hands on either side.

"Is this what you want, boy?" Gerard asked in a soft voice, the idle nonchalance was somehow making Frank all and every inch more riled up.

"P- Please..." Frank gasped, fingers digging into the edge of the desk as Gerard's mouth teased at the inside of his asscheek, mouthing and sucking. Frank felt like he was about to cry, practically weep at how good it felt as he wondered how he had gone his whole life without being eaten out even just once. Frank was pulled out of his thought bubble by Gerard's tongue on his asshole, lapping slowly, groaning to himself. Frank swallowed hard, eyes squeezed shut as he lifted himself up on his toes, his thighs shaking as Gerard's tongue stroked a firm and steady rhythm over his most sensitive skin.

Frank gasped, shuddering as Gerard ran a finger over Frank's asshole, teasing and taunting, pressing and slipping his index finger into Frank slowly. Frank's mouth hung open as he dropped down from his shaky legs, thighs shivering as his Master plundered into him with both tongue and now two fingers.

Frank's body went up into a sudden and sharp bolt of pleasure as Gerard's fingers massaged his prostate, his tongue flitting in rapid succession over Frank's stretched hole. Gerard twisted his hand, his fingers crooking up as he gripped the table, giving Frank's asshole one more tonguing, firm and rigid along with his lengthy fingers. Frank felt Gerard move away and stand up behind him, running his free hand over Frank's lower back as the other continued to finger Frank's hole relentlessly.

The tight knots in Frank's gut continued to tighten like a snake coiling to strike and he gasped, his skin feeling way too tight as he rutted his hips against the desk, grinding his dick against the wood. Gerard reached forward and wrapped his hand around Frank's dick, squeezing as he stroked him deliberately and unhurriedly. Frank tried not to make a sound as his Master jerked him off, pumping him so close to his climax, Frank's legs quaking as he lifted up, whining in the back of his throat.

"You want to come, little boy?" Gerard crooned, crooking his fingers, thrusting into Frank, ravishing his prostate with his fingertips, "Let your Master hear you."

Frank let out a soft moan, his mouth hanging open as he scrunched his eyes closed even tighter, small blue spots pulsating behind his eyelids when Gerard let go of his dick. Frank wanted to whine in protest, the small groan in his throat that he thought he had control of eventually dribbled from his lips. He had hoped that his Master hadn't heard the sound of protest but by the way Gerard had grabbed him by the scruff and lifted him up.

"You think you could get away with trying to take control?" Gerard asked in his submissive's ear, "Hmm?"

"I- I-..." Frank swallowed under Gerard's hand that was wrapped around his throat.

"You know what this means?" Gerard asked as he fingered at Frank's black day collar that was hiding under the collar of his black button-up shirt, "This means that I fucking own you. You're mine, you arrogant, presumptuous little fucktoy."

Frank gasped as Gerard pushed him back down, lifting his hips up before he lined up, pushing into Frank with deliberate slowness. The pressure between them had Frank's eyes bulging until Gerard pushed in all the way, slamming in all the way to the hilt, bottoming out with way too much ease. Gerard pulled out and slid back in, the saliva that he had slicked up Frank's hole was slowly drying, the friction between them going dry and rough. Frank gritted his teeth at the pain of it all, pushing his hips back, gripping the desk edge in front of him. Gerard's grip around his neck tightened, lifting him up as his arm wrapped around Frank's hips, keeping him close as his hips sped up in a rhythm that could only be described as unbending, ruthless, and inexorable. The soft sound of skin on skin in their dead silent office was mingling with the heady heat between them, the sweat curling under Frank's clothing, the tightness under his skin was tantric, the erotic sounds of Gerard's soft and panted breaths.

"You come here." Gerard pulled Frank up into a somewhat standing position, gripping him by the hair on the front of his head, the tight curls locked and knotted in Gerard's fingers. Gerard's face buried in Frank's shoulder, a short and shuddered breath against the cotton, "Shit- Fuck."

Frank felt Gerard's arm tighten around him, his hips snapping roughly, dick thrusting into Frank's asshole over and over as the weak submissive felt his own legs shaking like he was about to fall. Gerard's hips stilled, his body shaking with soft spilling tremors as he came deep inside of Frank, rocking into his submissive as he rode out his own orgasm. Frank frowned, whimpering as he rocked his hips, riding Gerard's dick as much as he could with Gerard holding him so tightly. Gerard pulled out quickly and Frank heard the faint sound of a zipper behind him. He was pushed forward and he stumbled with his pants still around his ankles, falling with his arms out in front of him, holding himself up. He looked down at his dick with a shuddered whimper, swallowing dry as he so badly wanted to reach out and stroke himself off.

"Pants up," Gerard ordered simply and a record-scratch went off in Frank's head, his gaze tearing from his leaking dick.

"P-Pardon?" Frank turned and looked at his Master, who was already fully dressed yet again, not a hair out of place and the only thing that could have given off any sort of strenuous activity was the soft pink blush to his usually pale cheeks.

"I said..." Gerard gave Frank's ass cheek a slap, "Pants up, boy."

"B-But-" Frank whined softly and he turned to see Gerard's harsh glare of disapproval at his outburst.

"Excuse me, dog?" Gerard's voice dropped in volume but rose in its warning and trepidation, his eyes hardening as he looked down at Frank, "I gave you an instruction."

Frank looked down as he pulled his boxers and his black slacks back up, fastening them as he tried not to outwardly cringe at the ache and the throbbing of his still hardened dick. The straining material evident in hiding the erection within.

"Fucking cheek," Gerard muttered, grabbing Frank by the scruff and turning him around until they were face to face. Frank looked at his Master before he cast his gaze down, Gerard's grip on the back of his neck tightening, "You're lucky I gave you anything, boy. You should be so grateful. You're lucky I don't make you lick my feet as a 'thank you'. I've given you more than you deserve, mongrel."

"Th-Thank you, sir." Frank gasped out as Gerard's nails dug into his skin.

"Go back to work, Frank. Finish what you have to do."

"Yes, sir. Th-Thank you, sir.”


	45. The Only Problem was Sorting Out the Problem

It was nearly midnight and that was all Frank could tell as he stared up at the ceiling, not really paying attention to anything or his surroundings. He was wrapped up in his half of the comforter, listening to Gerard snoring softly beside him. Frank couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t seem to be able to drift off. He knew that he had to sleep because he was going to have to be up in about six hours but he just couldn’t relax.

It wasn’t like Frank was having a hard time adjusting to his new routine; they had gone to bed at half-past ten and Frank had been okay with that. Gerard had been happy to sway the wake-up times to help Frank adjust to his new early starts. Get him in tune with his new rituals as Gerard had said at one point. Frank liked to believe that he was getting the hang of it, but that didn’t mean that he was going to find it easy to fall asleep when his body and mind was refusing to shut off and go to sleep.

There was one reason as to why he was still awake at nearly midnight while his Master slept soundly. His Master who had fucked him and left him hanging for the rest of the day. That was the whole reason as to why Frank couldn’t sleep. The sex in the office had left him on edge all day and all night. Frank lay there, mentally cursing because his dick wasn’t getting the memo. He whined in annoyance, his dick hard and aching, and he knew there wasn’t a hope in Hell that his dick was getting any attention right now. Frank continued to glower at the ceiling, standing back on the teetering edge of sanity because he needed _something_. He needed to finish but how could he when his Master was asleep next to him? How in the world could he possibly go to sleep when his body was still wide awake and screaming out for something physical and fucking exquisite?

Frank looked over at the sleeping form of his Dominant next to him and he sighed, shifting on the bed to rest a hand under his head. He had no idea what to do right now. The most obvious choice was to sort out the problem, but doing that wasn’t exactly an option for which Frank could go. He knew that if Gerard found out that he had been touching himself, or even caught him while he was in the middle of touching himself, he would have ended up in egregious amounts of trouble. Frank had yet to receive any sort of proper punishment from his Master, but he knew that he had been pushing it. He had already sensed it earlier when he got slammed down against the desk in Gerard’s office. When he remembered the severe way that Gerard had shoved him around, it made his dick twitch for more. Frank didn’t want to think that his lack of control was completely his fault. He knew that given the situation for which he had signed up, and the fact that his Master was astoundingly beautiful and a sex God in Frank's eyes, his current predicament couldn’t be put solely on him. Gerard was just as much to blame for his impromptu erection because he was all Frank wanted, no matter the time.

Gerard rolled over in his sleep, muttering something before he went back to snoring softly. Frank watched him for a second in the dark, wondering how it was possible for someone to be so damn attractive even in slumber. He also wondered why, in the name of fuck, he had to get turned on at the stupidest time of the day; it was so frustrating. Frank sighed as he tried to ignore the ache and formidable lust-fuelled bubbles that urged his hips to buck up into nothing.

As much as Frank just wanted to roll over and go to sleep, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to go to sleep until his problem was sorted out. The only problem was sorting out the problem. Usually, it would have been so simple; nothing more than a quick and sloppy jerk-off before he would finally be able to go to sleep. The other option was waking Gerard up to help him out, which seemed tempting, but what if he got in trouble for waking him up? What if Gerard just told him to go back to sleep even though Frank couldn’t even get himself to sleep? Then he would just have to lie there awake with a boner that was still a problem.

Frank held his breath for a second, watching his Master closely as he carefully slid a hand under the sheets. Frank kept an eye on Gerard, biting his bottom lip to keep himself quiet. Frank knew that what he was doing was wrong, and he would only end up in serious trouble over it if he got caught, but that was what made it so much more exciting. Frank wasn’t looking to get in trouble, but the idea of getting caught had him wondering if it was worth it. Frank did think that it was worth it, especially because he was so turned on and had a one-track mind filled with thoughts of he and Gerard. Frank slid his hand under the elastic of his pajamas, stifling the sharp intake of breath when his fingers brushed against his dick.

Frank couldn’t help himself when he moved slowly, trying not to jolt the bed or make Gerard aware of the fact that something was going on next to him. Frank knew that he had to be more careful considering Gerard was such a light sleeper. He slowly wrapped a hand around his dick and let out a sighing moan that was barely above audible. He tilted his head back on the pillow as coils of heat simmered low in the pit of his stomach. He stroked himself slowly but, somehow, this didn’t feel like enough. Something had Frank stalling and not entirely getting into the rhythm of it. The itch would’ve been scratched, but he probably wouldn’t have been satisfied with the end result.

Maybe it was the fact that the sex was phenomenal so jerking off wouldn’t have even come close to what he really wanted. Or maybe it was the idea of getting so lost in the moment that Frank probably wouldn’t even realize if Gerard woke up. Frank could just imagine the cold, angry, and disappointed stare that he would feel on him before he finally opened his eyes and looked over to see Gerard watching him. Frank let out a frustrated sigh as he removed his hand from his pants; it felt wrong. Somehow Gerard would know and the five minutes of pleasure before the climax really wouldn’t have been worth the punishment that would follow.

Unless the punishment was going to be something that Frank enjoyed. What if Gerard put him over his lap and spanked him? Frank was really into the idea of the scorching pain and the way Gerard’s hand would come down on his ass over and over. Frank squirmed on the bed, getting more turned on as he imagined Gerard hitting him until his ass was raw and his dick was hard. Frank stifled a whimper that tried to get past his lips as he rolled over on the bed, trying to find a position he could lie in where he wouldn’t be able to focus on in his erection. He lay on his side and tried to shut off and even though that was now physically impossible, Frank just tried his damn best to ignore it. The angel on his shoulder told him to just leave it alone and get some sleep. The devil on his other shoulder, however, was the one telling Frank to go ahead. Clearly, he needed it and Gerard was sound asleep and would be none the wiser in the morning. Frank ignored it all and let out a frustrated sigh, getting more and more aggravated as time went by. It was nearly one in the morning by the time he started to admit defeat. As much as Frank knew he could easily solve the problem, he knew that he couldn’t solve it alone. Frank ended up rolling onto his front with an annoyed sigh when he practically face-planted into his pillow.

He needed something to take the edge off and grinding against the bed really did help him out. It might not have been much, but it was just enough to cool the burning knot inside of him. He slowly rolled his hips against the mattress and whimpered quietly into the pillow. He tried to imagine what Gerard would have expected him to do in a situation like this; this wasn’t exactly something that had been covered in any of his recent training. All Frank knew was that he couldn’t do anything to himself without permission. He probably shouldn’t have been humping the bed, but he was aching and desperate.

Frank tried to wrack his brain and come up with a solution for what to do, but he was coming up empty. The only obvious thing to do was to actually wake Gerard up, which he still thought was a risky thing to do. Would Gerard really expect him to stay like this all night, unable to sleep? How would he be able to get up in the morning or properly function at work? This had to be solved and seeing as Frank couldn’t do it alone, he knew he was going to have to do the one thing that would either result in him getting told off or in him finally getting some release.

“Sir?” Frank whispered, his voice cracking. His eyes were focused on Gerard to see if there was any sign of movement- Nothing. Not even a change in the way he was quietly snoring away. Frank groaned, rubbing his tired eyes before he shifted closer to his Master, “Sir? Wake up.”

Gerard rubbed a hand over his face before it fell back down onto the pillow next to his head. Frank rolled his eyes; the light sleeper really wasn’t waking up when he was needed. Frank sat up in bed and lay a hand on Gerard’s shoulder before deciding to gently shake him, “Sir… Wake up, please.”

Frank continued to shake his Master’s shoulder until finally, there was movement. He saw the way Gerard’s brow furrowed before he started to stir. Gerard grumbled to himself as he twisted on the bed, coming to lie on his back before cracking an eye open to see Frank looking down at him in the dark, “Frank,” Gerard spoke thickly, voice filled with sleep, “What time is it? It isn’t morning yet.”

“About one-ish, sir,” Frank rushed, his voice shaking with the combination of panic and arousal, “Sorry- I-I didn’t want to wake you but… I felt like I didn’t have a choice.”

If Gerard had been more awake then he would have seen the sheer desperation in Frank's eyes, he would have heard the way that he spoke and how needy he sounded; Frank was pleading without even asking for anything yet. Gerard didn’t move from where he lay on the bed, but if he had done then he also would have seen why Frank was waking him up in the middle of the night. 

“You need to sleep,” Gerard brushed Frank off almost instantly as he rolled back over to sleep, but Frank stopped him by holding onto his shoulder. Frank stopped him and got Gerard to look back at him, “Frank, do not test my patience in the middle of the night. You have to be up early. You need to sleep, boy.”

“But I can’t sleep, sir,” Frank whined, “You don’t understand. I-I tried to sleep. I tried everything I could think of… Sir-”

“Go back to sleep, boy.”

“But I need you,” Frank told him, his voice in a croaked plea. He didn’t care if he had spoken without being given permission, he didn’t care if Gerard was about to tell him off for still being awake. Frank knew that he couldn’t go the whole night like this, so Gerard had to understand and it was hopefully the right thing to do.

“You can 'need' all you want, but it doesn’t mean that you are going to ‘get’,” Gerard told Frank with a frustrated sigh as he wrapped his arm around Frank’s waist to pull him back down onto the bed, “Now go back to sleep, boy. You have to be up early.”

“But, sir,” Frank whined from within his Master’s grip because Gerard was somewhat strong when it came to getting his sub to obey. Frank's head hit the pillow, “You don’t understand-”  
  
“I _do_ understand,” Gerard cut Frank off quickly, getting him to roll over so he could put an arm around Frank protectively, pulling him close and tight, “But you need to sleep. I don’t want to hear another word from you, boy.”  
  
Frank opened his mouth to speak, but the tone that Gerard spoke in, it made Frank silence himself. He bit down on his tongue to stop himself from protesting because nothing was going to happen and there was nothing Frank could do to stop the rejection he had just received. Frank remained silent and pouting, he wished that something could have been done to help him go to sleep. To make it worse, Gerard was holding him so close with his arm so tightly around him. The way he was pressed up against Frank’s back made his stomach knot up and his chest ache.

Frank lay there with his eyes still open, he stared out at the room in front of him while he listened to see if Gerard had gone back to sleep. He wasn’t snoring, but he wasn’t making a sound. Frank knew that he should have been trying to go to sleep but he just couldn’t when his Master’s crotch was pressed right up against his ass. The temptation to push back and see if he got a reaction from Gerard was so tempting, but he also knew that if he tried it, he could have ended up getting scolded for his insistent behavior. He could have been told to get out of bed and go and sleep in his room, which Frank really didn’t want to do. He liked sleeping in Gerard's arms and, to be perfectly honest, he would rather fight to go to sleep rather than lose out on this right now.

Frank was all but ready to give up and admit defeat as he screwed his eyes shut in a childish attempt to get himself to go to sleep, but he felt something. He felt a shift on the bed that got his attention. Although Gerard had told him to go back to sleep, he felt the way that Gerard’s grip tightened on his waist, he felt the way Gerard pulled him even closer even though it probably wasn’t possible for them to be any more proximate. Then he felt the shift of hips behind him, the slow grind of his Master’s dick against his ass. It made Frank’s eyes open but he didn’t dare look over his shoulder to see if Gerard was actually awake. Frank groaned out quietly, pressing back against Gerard, hoping and praying to God that this was actually going to go somewhere and this wasn’t just Gerard winding him up.

“You really think I was going to leave you in this state, boy?” Gerard whispered, his breath tickling the back of Frank’s neck.

“...d-didn’t know, sir.” Frank stammered out. After what had happened in the office, Frank had no idea. He could feel Gerard rubbing against him and getting hard, it made Frank stifle back a moan that was eager to come out.

“Well, I think you have your answer now, don’t you?” Gerard purred huskily into Frank’s ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Frank whimpered, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth before gasping out, rolling his ass against Gerard to meet up with his movements. He reached up to grab at the pillow his head was resting on, holding on while Gerard continued to grind against him slowly. Frank keened roughly as he rolled back against his Master firmly, needing more than just a dry hump under the duvet in the middle of the night. Gerard paused for a second to remove his pajama bottoms and Frank did the same as best he could without moving from how he was positioned. He discarded them onto the floor by the bed before Gerard was pulling him back in incredibly close. The skin-on-skin contact of Gerard's cock pressing against his ass had Frank whimper and shudder, losing grip of what he was already struggling to hold.

Gerard held Frank close as he bit and sucked on his shoulder. The primal scrape of teeth to his fired-up flesh had Frank involuntarily rock back against his Master in sheer desperation. Gerard’s hand rested below Frank's navel, so close to where Frank only wished that he would reach and touch, but he didn’t want to get too close just yet. The fact that Gerard was actually going to have sex with him in the middle of the night; that was what Frank wanted the most- Not some half-asleep handjob while he was ground against. No, he needed Gerard _in_ him. He panted desperately, uncaring that Gerard was taking his time, winding him up more as he sleepily mouthed and licked at the skin on Frank’s shoulder.

Frank continued to press against Gerard when he heard the sound of a cap being snapped open, but he didn’t stop because it felt too good to even consider stopping. Moments passed before Gerard shifted, moving away from Frank slightly to get access. The softest and pitchiest ‘ _ah’_ left Frank when he felt fingers pressing at his hole, nudging in slowly. The stretch had him grip the pillow while Gerard started to prep him. The slick slide of Gerard's finger in him was good, but not enough. This would have been good about an hour ago when Frank first felt the curling tendrils of arousal ignite in his stomach. He needed Gerard in him, not just his fingers. He wanted the ache and the thick slide of his Master’s cock practically rearranging his insides. He wanted the weight and the pain of a barely-lubed dick fucking him until he sobbed. Frank pressed down against his Master’s hand to signal for more because it should have been obvious. He had been the one desperate enough to wake his Master up just so he could finally come before eventually being able to sleep.

Gerard got the hint and jumped from a single finger to sinking in a second and a third finger into his quickly-melting submissive. Frank was so grateful that Gerard seemed to now exactly what he needed just by the noises he made, so grateful that his Master was willing to give him what he craved with so little care for himself. Frank hissed, fighting his natural reflex to pull off; the stretch was painful but amazing, all boiling away in the pit of his stomach. The coils of heat mingling in with the burn of three fingers being in him so quickly. It still wasn’t enough even when Gerard massaged his prostate. The sparks had Frank curse out and grip the bedding tighter, rutting his hips quickly as he leaked precome into the sheets and drool into his pillow. He needed his Master pushing into him; as good as it was when Gerard fingered him, speeding up a little to gauge just how needy Frank was, he wanted to be fucked.

Gerard pulled Frank close when he removed his fingers, holding the base of his cock while he lined up and slowly he pushed in. Frank's mouth hung open and a silent whine left him as Gerard filled him. Every inch slid into him with deliberate slowness and it was as though Gerard knew exactly what Frank needed to feel. His needy over-sexed desires were finally being dealt with and Frank felt like he could have wept. Thankfully, Gerard definitely seemed to be up for it even if he still wasn’t fully awake. He rocked against Frank, listening to the stuttering moans that left his submissive between breaths. Frank hoped that Gerard didn’t want him to be quiet; he knew that it was late, but this was far too good for him to be quiet. The burning hot coils in the pit of his stomach were already beginning to knot up and grew ever tighter when Gerard threw the comforter from the two of them, his hand slid to Frank's leg to lift it up for a better angle. The change in angle had Gerard pushing in deeper and it had Frank cursing out, there were desperate pleas on his tongue that he had to hold back.

Gerard was keeping a slow rhythm going which, after how they had been together recently, was unusual. He was so wound up that he needed to feel being fucked. The angle was so much better and Frank was moaning like the slut Gerard had called him several times, but there was something in him that wanted _more_. Maybe the slut in him was dying to take charge, but there was something in him that knew he couldn’t do that. Gerard would never have it, no matter how much Frank insisted. His whole body screamed out for more, but Gerard still kept up the slow and torturous rhythm.

As much as he was enjoying how Gerard was pushing into him, biting and sucking on his shoulder to no doubtedly leave some beautiful marks, Frank couldn’t take it anymore. He decided, knowing that what he was going to do was probably a very bad idea, but he didn’t care. He had gone past the point of caring when his need outweighed rational thought. Frank moved away from Gerard, hating how he felt so empty when he was already close to teetering on the edge. Gerard just looked at him with stark confusion when Frank sat up on the bed, moving the blanket completely out of the way.

“What are you doing, boy?” Gerard questioned with a slight huff to his sexed-out voice. He watched his flustered submissive. Gerard went to sit up, but Frank pushed him back down with his shaky hands on Gerard’s sturdy shoulders. Frank didn’t answer as he straddled his Master, panting breathily. His insides were wound up so tight that Frank felt like he couldn’t take it anymore. He had gotten in trouble for trying to take control before and he had paid the price but this was different. Frank took hold of Gerard's dick in his hand, stifling a groan at the slick girth in his fingers as he lined up before sinking back down, choking out an obscene moan when Gerard filled him quickly. His fingers dug into the firm flesh of his Master’s shoulders, his skin ablaze with a fresh wave of bliss as he trembled, his mouth filling with saliva. This was the hard and fast fuck that would get him off and satiate his reawakened sex drive. The good thing was Gerard hadn’t pushed him off but his hands held onto Frank's thighs, nails digging into the skin, adding to the overwhelming salacity that had taken over Frank’s every pore.

Frank yelped out when Gerard lifted his knees up, tilting his hips to get that effortless angle for Frank’s own frantic bounces. He took hold of Gerard's thighs behind him to keep himself stable as he started to move, pleasure sizzling away inside of him as he rocked on his Master's dick. He picked up a rhythm that was quicker than he had been given moments before. He moaned loudly, uncaring of his volume at that time of night, and continued to ride his Master, holding on desperately as he sped up. His head rolled on his shoulders, filled with nothing but exquisite static as every and all thoughts were directed to the pleasure roaring through his system. He knew he was drooling now, unashamedly spilling spools down over his chin as small panting breaths followed. Frank was whimpering as he moved his arms from his Master’s legs, hands shifting from Gerard’s knees to rest on Master’s chest.

“Yeahyeahyeah, fuck-” Frank gasped as Gerard’s hand came up to wrap around his throat, applying pressure to his jugular, the cut-off instantly had a wave of tingles rush to his brain. He sputtered as more spit fell passed his lips and down, running over Gerard’s forearm. He locked eyes with his Master and cried out, his nails digging and scratching as the angle changed slightly. He mewled, his toes curling under his Master’s legs where he had anchored himself down, “Fuck, shit- Ah, yeah, harderharderhard- _please..._ ”

Frank barely managed to gasp out when Gerard’s palm pressed against his windpipe, choking him for a mere second harder than normal before he let go. Frank gasped, his head felt far too full and spacey, the buzz behind his eyes and the roar of blood in his ears rung out over their panted breaths. He looked down as Gerard smeared his fingertips in the puddle of drool on his own pale stomach that had been growing steadily larger as Frank continued to bounce quickly. He whined out when those three fingers were stuffed into his mouth, cold and wet saliva on his tongue was startling, but he sucked on his Master’s fingers desperately. The thick stretch stifled his moans even for a moment and he closed his eyes, his brow furrowed as he chased his release. The sheer intensity of heat was already boiling away under his skin and he swore that he had been close before he had even woke Gerard up. He had been so turned on and riled up, he knew that he wouldn’t last long, and there was no way in hell he was going to let Gerard slow down.

Gerard got a firm grip on his ass with one unyielding hand, the other reached up to tug on Frank’s hair and pull him down roughly. Gerard shifted on the bed beneath the boy and lifted his hips, picking up his own pace that had Frank melting into submission, letting his Master fuck up into his pliant hole with a jackhammer speed.

A slew of curses and pornographic moans left Frank when Gerard picked the pace up even more, snapping his hips up against Frank. Gerard slammed into him repeatedly, the sound of skin on skin, and the powerful feel of his Master giving him what he wanted, had Frank begging for more. The vigorous onslaught had Frank’s body straining under the pressure building inside of him; the impending orgasm loomed even closer now. His insides burned white-hot and Frank could barely hold on for much longer. His thighs started to shake as he drooled uncontrollably down the side of his Master’s neck, sobbing into the juncture of Gerard’s pale throat, his face stuffed into the pillow. Trails of what felt like the fire started to spread through his body from deep in the pit of his stomach. He moaned out in relief when his whole body finally gave in, shattering into a million pieces under the delicate cashmere of his sweaty skin.

Gerard didn’t let up as Frank came but held him still with a powerful arm around his waist to keep him in place as he continued to fuck into him relentlessly. Frank could barely keep himself together as he fought for air. The sensation overload was too much but Frank relished it. His mind whited out when sensitive nerves continued to work, clenching around Gerard, still reveling in the feeling of his Master being in him. Still fucking him. Making him feel so used that Frank tried to push back. Tried to match up with Gerard's thrusts. Please his Master now that he had finally got what he wanted so badly. Frank groaned close to his Master's ear when he felt the sharp thrusts growing hasty. He licked up the side of Gerard’s face, the subtle salt of sweat had him whine softly as he savored in the fact that Gerard was using him in the pursuit of his own release. His Master’s hips stuttered for a moment until Gerard pushed in erratically, grunting and panting as he rode out his orgasm. Frank clenched around his Master, rolling his hips as the oversensitive waves made his thighs twitch involuntarily. He felt the same weird sense of satisfaction coursing through him not just because of the fact that he came all over Gerard, but because Gerard had filled him up like a desperate little bitch.

The room fell quiet apart from Gerard's labored breaths and Frank's strained whimper when he shifted off his Master. He felt sore and blissfully used as he flopped down onto the bed face first, pushing the pillow out of his face before he turned to look at Gerard, watching him brush hair away from his brow.

“Well that was rather unexpected,” Gerard commented as he looked at Frank in the dark, seeing the lazy and tired smile that plastered his face, “I see my words about your self-seeking disposition fell on deaf ears.”

Frank shrunk back immediately, guilt sinking in because he knew what he had done. He knew what he had wanted to do even when he was busy working away next to Derek earlier in the office, trying his best to ignore the boner that wouldn't go away. The erection that had him desk-bound for most of the day, practically- And physically- salivating at the idea of finally getting to have more sex. Frank felt culpable despite every once-taut muscle that had been strained was now relaxed. His tired body was finally beginning to think about succumbing to slumber. He looked away, “‘M sorry, sir. I-I don't know what came over me.”

“I do,” Gerard snorted, rolling onto his side to face Frank before he reached out to wipe a stray tendril of saliva from Frank’s ear, “I deprived you of the one thing you thought you would get in my office. I took away your orgasm to teach you a lesson, boy. A lesson which I don't think you have fully grasped yet.”

Frank felt so contrite as the words sunk in even more, each sentence being hammered into his brain with far-too-dull nails. He was still simmering away with the after-effects of the sex that were in his gut, his body still thrumming, his ass comfortably sore. But now, the sinking feeling of Gerard's disappointment started to fill Frank's worrying mind. He whimpered quietly and hid the bottom half of his face behind his arm, one eye on Gerard despite wanting to completely avert his gaze.

“But,” Gerard added in after a brutishly long pause. Frank looked at him, confused because ‘but’s were never good. ‘But’s usually meant that there was some foreshadowing or something bad lurking around the corner. Gerard pursed his lips in thought before adding, “What you did was right. You were a good boy.”

Frank blinked at his Master, his mouth hung open. He had been half-expecting that he was going to be forcibly removed from the bed because of how he had used Gerard for his own pleasure. He had half-expected to be caged because of what he had done. Gerard looked at him, his face completely devoid of anger, which confused into a semblance of speechlessness.

“Do I get a thank you?”

“Th-Thank you?” Frank stammered out slowly, lifting his head up a tad to look at his Master, worried that Gerard might have hit his head or something when they had been so preoccupied with each other’s bodies.

“Don’t sound so perturbed, boy,” Gerard reassured airily, “You told me when you needed your Master. You were obedient, boy.”

“Okay,” Frank smiled as relief washed over him because he wasn’t about to get in trouble or thrown out of bed. Gerard looked like he was about to fall asleep, but at least he wasn’t berating him for his actions. He had actually called Frank a good boy, and that had Frank feeling overly pleased with the praise that rang out in his head, “Thank you, sir.”

“Be that as it may,” Gerard cut in as Frank smiled smugly, tugging th comforter over them both carefully, “It doesn’t mean that you can just roll me over and hump me anytime you want, boy. I’m still in charge here.”

Frank nodded wordlessly as he fought back the immediate urge to giggle. Out of all the fancy and eloquent words that Gerard said on a daily basis, he had to say ‘hump’. He had to lower his vocabulary to the point that Frank felt like a little kid hearing some rude curse words for the first time. He hid his face against the blanket as he fought back the laugh. Gerard looked over at him and raised an eyebrow at his sub’s sudden lack of control. A small laugh muffled under the sheets had alerted Gerard, who just shook his head.

“Are you laughing because I said ‘hump’, boy?” Gerard asked, prying the duvet away from Frank, watching him roll his lips into his mouth despite the humor that twinkled in his eye.

“Sorry, sir.” Frank apologized as calmly as he could muster, “Not exactly a word I expected to be in your vocabulary.”

“You did what you did, boy. You humped me,” Gerard said outright. Frank held back on the laugh this time, he couldn’t bring himself to let the juvenile humor get to him when Gerard was watching over him. His Master wrapped an arm around him before he pulled Frank close under the comforter, swatting at Frank’s head when he chuckled again, “No more of that for tonight. You need to sleep, boy. Don’t forget your six o’clock start.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank answered contently, smiling as Gerard pressed himself against his back, more than happy to finally drift off to sleep now that he had finally got what he wanted.

“One last thing I feel like I should ask, as it were.” Gerard whispered softly as he pulled his submissive against him, his thumb gently gliding back and forth over the soft skin of Frank’s stomach, “I noticed you didn’t get any spit on my desk this afternoon. Do you actually have control over your saliva or was that a happy accident?”

“I-” Frank paused as he blushed profusely, “I think, I- Well, I didn’t wanna get spit all over your papers. You didn’t move anything out the way and… I didn’t want you even more mad at me, sir.”

“So thoughtful…” Gerard drawled out sarcastically with a melodramatic sigh, “The boy won’t salivate on my desk but he’ll let it build up in excess and almost choke on it twelve hours later as though he’s never even had sex before. You could have died, sweet pup.”

“Choking on my own spit while I’m riding your monster dick is a good way to go, if you ask me.”

“Superfluous amounts of saliva in your lungs, aside…” Gerard stated pointedly, ignoring Frank’s vulgar statement, “Thank you for not frothing all over my work, you disgusting boy.”

“I’m your disgusting boy, though.” Frank smiled as he closed his eyes, hearing the soft vibration of a silent chuckle shudder through Gerard’s chest behind him.


	46. Have Fun Thinking About Your Bladder, Frank

The blaring alarm woke Frank, the pleasant-sounding melody from the alarm that he had chosen previously was now rousing him somewhat from his heavy sex-induced sleep. He opened a bleary eye and looked at the shockingly minuscule numbers on the red face, grimacing. He reached up, his arm still heavy and dead with sleep, and shut the alarm off, the other hand scratching his head as he grabbed the blanket around his shoulders.

“Five minutes…” Frank muttered to himself as he closed his eyes and rolled over, his arm wrapping around Gerard’s waist. Although that wasn’t the case in point for the young submissive as he drifted off into the seductive sleep that was whispering his name.

He frowned to himself, slowly and subconsciously coming to the realization that the amount of sleep that he was getting was suspiciously long for ‘five minutes’. He roused himself fully, groaning at the bright light hitting the inner of his eyelids, glowing red in his view. And then he realized his mistake and he turned, heart, sinking as the alarm clock read almost half eleven in the morning.

“Shit.” Frank gasped and turned over, yelping in fright when he saw Gerard standing over him at the side of the bed, hands in his pockets, and the worst look of disapproval plastered to every pore and follicle.

“Shit indeed, boy.” Gerard’s voice was cold and clipped and Frank grimaced yet again, wishing that Gerard was rather shouting at him than speaking in such an icy calm tone.

“Sir, I-”

“Did the alarm go off?” Gerard interrupted Frank’s sad attempt at apologizing, raising a hand at him to silence.

“Well-”

“Did it, or did it not go off, Frank?”

“It… It did…” Frank whispered softly and looked away as he sat up slowly, his cheeks flushing bright red.

“And what did you do?”

“I-I thought that I snoozed it for five minutes but yours is different to mine and-”

“I didn’t ask for excuses,” Gerard snapped harshly, “I asked a simple ‘yes or no’ question.”

“It went off, sir.” Frank looked down bashfully.

“I see.” Gerard replied, “Why did you not get up?”

“I-I was tired and- and I didn’t think five minutes would hurt anyone.” Frank offered up with a small raise of his shoulders as Gerard looked down at him with a scowl.

“Well, here we are,” He looked at his watch, “Six hours later. And on your first day, you’ve already proven to me that you can’t even do the simplest task for me. An important task. What if I had an early meeting? What if I had an appointment that I could not reschedule? What if Derek was off and everyone was relying on me to open the office today, Frank? Did you consider any of these things when you decided to disobey me and hit that button on the alarm? Nowhere in your rituals does it say that you can have a five-minute snooze. If you so badly wanted one then you should have set the alarm earlier.”

“Oh…” Frank looked down at his lap as Gerard straightened his bright cobalt blue blazer and turned on his heel.

“Get up.” He ordered as he grabbed Frank by the hair and forcibly pulled him out of bed. The submissive let out a yelp of pain in protest as he was pried from the mattress and sheets. Gerard walked to the door and Frank reached towards his boxers laying discarded from the night before, “I didn’t say get dressed.”

“Bu- Pardon?” Frank panted softly, looking up at Gerard from an awkward angle, his hair still firmly clasped in Gerard’s fingers, the pain digging sharply into his skull.

“You are being punished, boy.” Gerard merely stated as he tugged at Frank’s locks, “You’re lucky I have nowhere to be until later and that I’ve called you in sick to Derek.”

Frank didn’t know how to reply as Gerard walked out of their bedroom and down the hallway. Frank knew exactly where they were going as Gerard tugged on his hair slightly harder to pull him along. Frank stumbled over his own feet as Gerard’s grip made him speed up whether he wanted to or not. Gerard took Frank’s wrist in his hand and put it on the doorknob, using his submissive’s hand to open the door before he pushed Frank into their playroom. Frank let out a yelp as he staggered into the room, hearing Gerard slam the door behind him. He flinched at the loud sound, whimpering. He knew Gerard was angry but he knew he wouldn’t outwardly lash out, suspecting the door-slam to be a scare tactic- One that worked for sure. Gerard slowly walked over to where Frank was standing, the latter looking at his Master who had his hand to his side, his index and middle finger pointed to the ground. Frank swallowed and nodded, dropping down onto his knees with his hands placed gently on his kneecaps and his head down.

“I considered various punishments for you and your first serious indiscretion, Frank.” Gerard began as his shined leather boots came into Frank’s view, stopping in front of the kneeling submissive on the wooden floor, “I considered putting you over my knee, I considered a solid caning, a stern lecturing… But no, none of those would suffice.”

Frank swallowed hard at the idea and looked down at Gerard’s shoes again, whimpering at the silence between them that was more than screaming at him, making his heart beat faster and his hands want to shake.

Gerard disappeared from view and Frank could see him walking over to the cabinet nearby, grabbing something that Frank couldn’t see. Gerard walked across the room and out of Frank’s periphery, the rattling clink of chains tinkled menacingly as Gerard went through them to get what he wanted. He appeared in front of Frank again and grabbed him by the jaw, forcing his mouth open. They looked at each other for a second when Gerard spoke, “How’s your nose?”

“My-?”

“Not blocked or stuffy?” Gerard tilted his head to the side as Frank took an experimental sniff in, noting his nostrils both perfectly clear, “Good.”

Frank was about to ask when his jaw was pried open a second time and a bright red ball was stuffed into it behind his teeth. He let out a sharp protesting groan as Gerard turned Frank’s head and fastened the straps of the gag behind his head. Frank noted it wasn’t the holed wiffle gag he had gotten the first time and it was the original ball gag that he had been dreading. Frank shuddered as his jaw was let go of, the ache remaining as his mouth stayed open despite his best wishes.

“Arms up above your head for me,” Gerard ordered and Frank obeyed, lifting his arms up above his head as high as he could, stifling a sleepy yawn that left his throat. Frank continued to keep his gaze down as Gerard took his wrist in his hand and fastened a cuff around it before doing the same with the other, “Keep them up.”

Frank kept his bound hands in the air above him as Gerard walked off again, this time he heard clinking and a small whirring sound around him. He frowned, wanting so badly to look at what Gerard was about to do to him when Gerard appeared, tugging on the chain of Frank’s leather cuffs, hooking something to it.

“Now, boy,” Gerard walked off, “When I say I want you up… I want you up. And since this seems to be such a grueling task for you, boy, I figured I’ll make you stand whether you like it or not.”

Frank looked up in confusion to see Gerard leaning against the wall next to what looked like a powerbox. He merely flipped a switch and Frank’s arms lifted up. He looked up in surprise to see his tight cuffs attached to a chain on a roller that seemed to be fastened to the ceiling. The chain was slowly winding up back onto its roller and Frank let out a protest at the pulling in his shoulder sockets.

“You’ll have to get up sooner or later, boy. That chain can hold all of your weight threefold.” Gerard commented as Frank straightened up on his knees, his back completely straight as he tried to compensate for the stretch of his limbs. Frank was lifted off of his aching knees, his legs bent as he tried to stand up, thighs shaking. He swallowed the pooling spit in his mouth as the chain sped up and pulled him up into a standing position, his arms still taut and pointed to the ceiling above his head, aching wrists and biceps were in the forefront of his mind as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“And now you stand until I let you down. Do you think you’ll be able to obey this simple order or not, dog?” Gerard stepped up to his submissive who was openly and ashamedly drooling. Frank nodded then, whimpering as he readjusted his weight on his feet, “I’m going to work.”

Frank’s eyes widened then, realizing that Gerard was indeed serious about leaving him there for most of the rest of the day.

“Maybe now you’ll take my orders seriously, Frank. When I say something, you do it. On my time, not yours. Or you will be punished and reprimanded. Do you understand?”

“Ye-” Was all Frank managed to get out as he drooled on his own foot.

“Do you understand why you’re being punished?” Gerard asked, hands clasped behind his back. Frank looked at him and nodded solemnly, “Are you sure?”

“Ye-” Frank tried again, nodding still.

“And you understand that you deserve this punishment for not obeying my order for you, boy?” Gerard added and looked his submissive over, the latter nodding again as the drool ran down his neck, “Good.”

Frank looked at Gerard as he pulled a small side table into view in front of Frank and pulled a small analog clock out of his pocket, setting it on the table, “There. Something for you to look at while I’m gone. You spent six hours asleep and now you’ll spend six hours like this.”

Frank watched with wide eyes as Gerard turned on his heel and walked to the door, throwing a glance over his shoulder as he opened the threshold and eyed his submissive.

“Have fun thinking about your bladder, Frank.” Was all he left his submissive with before he walked out and closed the door, bathing Frank in the red and pale luminescent glow of the lights around him. Frank then realized he hadn’t gone to pee in the morning like he always did, he realized his bladder was already in protest and it wasn’t likely Gerard would return in time to save him.

Frank felt like he was about to cry, ashamed of himself for fucking up so badly. He didn’t want to have disappointed Gerard, he wanted to get up and start the day and make his Master proud. It was a natural instinct for him to snooze the alarm, having done it every day to give himself those five extra minutes that subconsciously made a difference in his sleep and his general daily outlook.

Needless to say, Frank was now up whether he wanted to or not, his body standing somewhat comfortably in the middle of the room despite the nagging infirmity in his arms and the remonstrate discomfort in his bladder.

Frank adjusted on his feet and looked at the clock as five minutes had passed. He tried to stifle another yawn behind the gag, drooling even more from the pinched sides of his mouth as he hung his head down and closed his eyes.

He so badly wanted to sleep, his lids heavy and body still like lead and he knew that if he found the right position to relax in that he probably could catch a nap despite still being forcibly stood in the middle of the room. The only issue he had was the still ever-present complaint of his bladder that was stopping him from reaching peak-sleep comfort levels.

Frank wasn’t about to piss himself, he wouldn’t stoop as low as peeing on his own feet and on Gerard’s floor. He couldn’t bring himself to do it even if he knew that he would be able to sleep afterward. He remained resilient though, moving his weight from left to right foot, resting his head on his lifted arm. He glanced at the clock a second time to see only another five minutes had passed. He closed his eyes, frowning as he tried to push passed every sinew of uncomfortable muscle pull. It was no use, he knew he wasn’t able to sleep now or even hit that sweet spot between slumber and consciousness.

Almost three hours later and Frank was still where he had been left, only now he was in agony. His legs had all but given in this time and he was hanging from the ceiling by his arms, his knees bent as though he were about to fall onto them but he was just too high off of the ground to achieve the sweet bliss of folding his legs completely. His head hung on his shoulders, his hands numb from the pins and needles.

He had surrendered to his fate two hours ago after his legs had given in from being so stagnant for so long. Perhaps if he had done this before and had stood for so long he would have lasted longer but no, Frank had never had to or needed to stand completely still and solid for longer than a few minutes, even in a queue there was movement. Here, however, he found it so difficult. He had thought of moving his legs about to avoid the stiffness in his joints but it only hurt his arms and his wrists even more than before.

He let out a small sob, groaning to himself as a wash of relief hit his body and a slow warmth. And then he realized what was happening. Whether he liked it or not, his body hadn’t been able to handle the pressure and agony of being so full of liquid that it had burst without warning. Frank didn’t even look down as his body relieved itself, actual pee splashing his feet. Frank couldn’t deny how much better his body felt, he couldn’t deny that he instantly felt so much more comfortable despite the fact that he currently had body-warm urine in a pool around his feet.

And yet he still wouldn’t have safe-signaled if Gerard was here and he knew it was because he deserved the punishment. He had fucked up and he knew it, he had fucked up and with Gerard’s career even if it was only one morning. And the only morning, Frank internally promised himself as he curled his toes, resting his head on his arm.

Frank heard soft footsteps outside of the door and he whimpered, frowning as he looked at the clock in front of him, realizing that if it were his Master then he was almost three hours early.

The door opened and Frank glanced up to see his Master leaning in the doorway, eyes trained on him. Gerard walked into the room after closing the door behind him, hands behind his back as he scrutinized.

“Look at you, boy.” Gerard’s voice was a break in the loud and shame-filled silence that was around Frank for so long, “Disgusting.”

Frank winced at the last word that slipped from Gerard’s mouth and looked down again, looking at Gerard’s shoes.

“You urinated on my floor, boy. Have you no self-control?” Gerard stepped back slightly, “Lucky I don’t rub your face in it like a filthy dog.”

Frank whimpered around the gag in his mouth, noting that the sound made his throat ache from the lack of fluid in his body. Gerard walked away from his submissive, idly waltzing somewhere that Frank didn’t bother looking. There was a small clinking sound above Frank before he went crashing to the ground, landing on his knees on the hardwood floor before he fell on his chest and his face. Frank felt the urine on the floor underneath his thighs and he whined, frowning as Gerard crouched down beside him.

Frank felt the tight leather straps of the gag around his head finally give way and he spat out the gag, his jaw protesting at the movement. The corners of his lips stinging and most likely torn even just a fraction. Frank ran the ball of his piercing against his teeth slowly, trying to assimilate and distract from the ache in his shoulders as his arms lay stretched out in front of him. Gerard pulled the chain and disconnected it from Frank’s cuffs, the chain shooting back up into its roller louder than Frank had wished for. He frowned at the sound, hearing the louder thuds of Gerard’s shoes on the floor coming towards him.

“Up, boy,” Gerard muttered as he cleared his throat. Frank shifted on the floor, groaning as he curled his knees in towards his body and sat up, his spine clicking in more than one place. He laid his hands on his wet thighs and took in a breath of relief as the blood filled his fingertips, “Good. Have you learned your lesson?”

“Y- Yes, sir.” Frank croaked, wincing at his dry and cracking throat.

“You understand what you did wrong?” Gerard put his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you understand why I did this to you?”

“I misbehaved and…” Frank swallowed, “And I didn’t listen to you.”

Gerard tilted his head to the side, “Exactly. Will you do it again?”

“No, sir.” Frank looked up earnestly, “Never again. I-I don’t want to upset you, Master.”

“I would think not.” Gerard shifted his weight to the other foot, “And I did shorten your punishment in half considering it’s your first real misjudgment.”

“Thank you, Master.” Frank whispered, sniffing softly.

“You’re sorry, boy?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank bit his lip when Gerard stepped closer.

“Go on.” Gerard’s foot slid forward, “Say you’re sorry.”

Frank looked down at Gerard’s shoe and up at his Master, his hands shaking as he clenched them and bent down, kissing Gerard’s shoe for a prolonged second. He straightened up again with the taste of leather on his lips, tingling slightly and adding to every small sensation in his body.

“Good boy.” Gerard muttered, looking at Frank, “Let’s get you cleaned up and fed.”

  
Frank looked at his Master gratefully as Gerard helped him up onto his feet when they paused, “Sir?”

“Yes, boy?”

“What about…” Frank glanced at the floor as the color flooded his cheeks, “I’m so sorry.”

“You can clean it once you’ve gotten your strength back after some food.” Gerard shrugged before he reached over and grabbed a towel, throwing it on the floor as he walked with Frank to the door, opening it before he stopped. Frank watched as Gerard unfastened his cuffs, freeing his wrists- bruised and chafed wrists- from their leather cuffs. Gerard brought one of Frank’s wrists up, kissing it softly before he looked the marks over slowly.

“We’ll get ice and gel on this as well, boy. I’ll look after you. But don’t think you’re out of the dog box yet. You still have to prove yourself worthy to me again, Frank.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”


	47. A Day for Him to Prove Himself to His Master

_Frank winced as Gerard took care of him. Frank felt much better with a full stomach and was finally dressed, sitting cross-legged on his Master's bed, but the aftercare wasn't over yet. Gerard took hold of his wrist gently, avoiding the angry red marks and bruises. Frank blanched when he felt the instant sting of aloe vera gel being rubbed on his wrist before it cooled. Frank got over the initial shock and relaxed into it, watching Gerard work, watching how his Master cared after what he had just put Frank through._ _  
_ _  
_ _"Feeling better?"_

_Frank was still watching him tend to his sore and red wrists. He only nodded, mind filled with curiosity of which he didn't want to consider yet. It silenced him and made him think more than was probably needed. The ordeal was over and Frank knew that; he knew not to make the same mistake twice, but he still thought, still wondered. The punishment fit the crime, but Frank still considered and wondered what would have happened if, partway through the punishment, he realized that he couldn't do this and he needed it to stop instantly._ _  
_ _  
_ _Gerard had gone to work, or at least that was what Frank was led to believe. It was what his Master had told him he was doing so of course Frank worried if the worst had happened. He knew that he wouldn't signal, but he kept his mouth shut about it. His mind raced about what would have happened if he needed it to stop._ _  
_ _  
_ _"You look troubled, boy," Gerard commented, noticing the frown on his submissive's brow. Frank snapped out of his long stare, looking up at his Master, seeing the moue of concern that sat on his face. Frank didn't want to bring something up that Gerard probably had completely under control, but he couldn't help it when he wondered what would happen if it wasn't under control. Not that he would voice his concern. He felt stupid for worrying, but he didn't all at the same time. He knew that he would have felt silly if he asked what would happen if he couldn't do something and Gerard wasn't there to hear or see him signal that enough was enough. Gerard knew what he was doing, but then again, Frank also knew just how new to this he was so of course he felt like he needed some form of comfort over what was taking over his thoughts._ _  
_ _  
_ _"Frank," Gerard sighed, capping the gel, setting it down on the bedside table before handing Frank an ice pack, pressing it on his wrists before getting him to hold it in place, "I know the look of concern on a sub’s face. It's what I'm supposed to spot. Telltale signs that tell me that something is wrong."_ _  
_ _  
_ _"I'm fine, sir." Frank insisted, not wanting to worry Gerard over something that he guessed was more than definitely something of which his Master had control._ _  
_ _  
_ _"Boy," Gerard’s tone lowered. He looked Frank straight in the eyes, making him shiver at the cold, yet concerned, stare. Frank knew that he couldn't hide it. Gerard was onto him, "If you don't tell me what is wrong then am I going to have to force it from you?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _"I don't want to come across as stupid…" Frank admitted, lowering his gaze from Gerard's because he felt somewhat ashamed. Like he was letting his Master down for doubting his methods, "I'm still so new to this and just… I thought of something and…sir?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Yes, Frank?" Gerard asked, sensing the nervousness in his submissive, "You can say anything to me and I won't think of it as stupid. I know you are new to this lifestyle and I expect you to ask questions. How will you learn if you don't ask?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _Frank nodded at that. Gerard did have a point, "I just wondered…"_

_"About what?"_

_Frank took a shaky breath before he adjusted the ice pack on his wrist, getting some relief from the burning cold on his left wrist before giving his right wrist some attention, "What would have happened if I couldn't do it, sir?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _"How do you mean?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _"What if I signaled that I couldn't do it?" Frank blurted out the question before he could bottle it back up again and come up with something else that he could have asked without worrying over, "What if I signaled while you were at work…if you were at work- Were you actually at work, sir?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _"I was at work, I wasn't lying," Gerard said honestly, making Frank swallow and look down at the warming ice pack on his wrist, "If Lindsey could have dealt with the work alone today then I would have stayed at home. Still told you that I was going into work, but I would have kept an eye on you, boy."_ _  
_ _  
_ _"So," Frank stammered, now knowing the truth that Gerard had actually left him hanging there. He had known already, but the confirmation sent a shiver down his spine, "If I'd have signaled while you were at work, how would you have known?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Trust your Master, boy," Gerard spoke warmly, reassuringly with a small knowing smile on his face, "I had my eye on you the whole time."_ _  
_ _  
_ _Frank frowned, "H-How?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _"I have cameras in the room for such scenes where I have to leave you alone," Gerard admitted, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable, "Do you really think that I would truly leave you alone, boy?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _For a split second, Frank considered it but he shook his head, knowing full well that he trusted Gerard with all of this. If he didn’t then his signature wouldn't have been sat on the contract._ _  
_ _  
_ _"Whatever the play…or punishment," Gerard said pointedly, making Frank look back down as he felt shame again for what he had done, "If you are out of my sight, you are still one hundred percent safe. If anything were to turn sour, it would stop instantly."_ _  
_ _  
_ _"But-" Frank stopped himself, feeling like he was speaking out of turn. Gerard just waved a hand at him, letting him continue, "So if you could see me signal that I wanted down and I wanted it to stop, how would you have stopped it from in the office? Say I started to have a panic attack and you were twenty away… What would have happened then?"_ _  
_ _  
_ _"In the worst-case scenario, being with you or away from you, I would stop it," Gerard reassured him again, "If you did need to get down and I wasn't there, be it in the office, I would have been able to get you down from my phone."_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Wh-" Frank stopped himself. What Gerard said sounded like some sort of technological mind-fuck. He tried to wrap his head around it but nothing seemed to be melding._ _  
_ _  
_ _"Don't look so confused, boy," Gerard chuckled, "I assumed that you would understand that, being younger than myself. More technologically educated than me."_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Half the time I could barely get the TV to record shit when I wanted it to," Frank admitted with a smirk, "I'm not very good with technology."_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Well, be that as it may, if I needed to release you, it would only have been a phone call away," Gerard continued, "There is a remote, but if I'm too far away for it to work then I merely have to make a quick call and I activate the release mechanism."_

_“I guess that is comforting,” Frank nodded, feeling the doubt start to fade away. He should have known that Gerard knew what he was doing, whether he was there or not. Frank should have known that his Master would have taken care of him no matter what the situation, but being so new to it, he needed the confirmation._

_“As comforting as it should be, you do know that what happened to you was still a punishment. It was warranted, whether you could do it or not,” Gerard added, “I’m impressed that you did it. The first proper punishment can be rather daunting. Did you even consider signaling at any point?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Frank sat still for a second before shaking his head at his Master. Frank knew that he had done wrong; he deserved the punishment. It fitted and Frank didn’t want to come across as weak when he was so new to all of this._

_“As proud as I am of that,” Gerard cleared his throat, getting up from the bed and walking towards the bedroom door. He snapped his fingers before lifting up his index finger, pointing it down. Frank racked his brain for a split second before he remembered the signal, scrambling off the bed to join Gerard. Standing obediently to the right with his head bowed down, Frank followed when Gerard opened the bedroom door and walked out, “You still disappointed me with your lack of urgency this morning. As of that, tonight and for however long I see fit, you will be sleeping in your room, boy. Do you understand?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Frank fought back his initial reaction to protest. He hated sleeping alone, but he also knew that he had done wrong. He knew that he had his room for occasions like this, so Frank just nodded, saying ‘yes, sir’ before he continued to follow his Master._

Frank was sitting up in his own bed, rubbing his hands over his face, his fingers pressing against his still tired eyes. He was so tired, but this was the price he had to pay for waking up so late yesterday. He was awake before his alarm this morning for the simple reason that he felt far too alone. His usual comfortable night's sleep hadn't been as deep-seated.

That coupled with the fact that he was in his room. Not sharing the bed with his Master. Frank sighed to himself as he looked at the cream walls vacantly for a second. He knew that he couldn’t waste any time this morning. He had to make up for his mistake and he didn't want to be getting Gerard angry again. Not for the second day in a row. This morning had to go perfectly and Frank knew that as he climbed out of bed. He stood up and stretched toward the ceiling, reaching up as his muscles protested. The similar position of his arms above his head had his shoulders rolling in their joints uncomfortably. He stifled a yawn as he went over to his closet and pulled on an old 'Off The Wall' tee and some shorts.

Yesterday’s punishment was still fresh in Frank's mind. The arduous and relentless torture he had withstood; had deserved. Today was another day for him to prove himself to his Master that it wasn’t going to happen again. He had to be up at five-fifteen and he had to be downstairs as soon as possible because there was no way in hell he was going to run late for waking Gerard.

No one else was awake when Frank got downstairs. The house was in darkness as he padded over to the kitchen, turning on the overhead light that made him wince. His eyes were still far too tired to be dealing with this time of the morning. It was barely five-thirty. Frank knew that he was ahead of schedule and he was glad that he didn’t have to rush around. He made his way over to the fridge and pulled the oversized door open to look in and see what he was going to have before breakfast.

There was far too much to choose from, but Frank grabbed at one of the sealed smoothie bottles. He bumped the fridge door shut with his hip before leaning against it, taking a sip out of the bottle. The green concoction didn’t entirely look appetizing, but Frank was thirsty and he downed half of the drink in no time at all, hoping not to waste any precious time as he went. He didn’t want to disappoint his Master for the second day in a row. Fifteen minutes until he had to wake his golden calf. The obvious thing to do would be to hang around and wait until he was to go upstairs and wake Gerard, but Frank didn’t want to take any risks.

The thought of that happening again made Frank shudder. There was no way in Hell he was going through that again. It was safe to say that now he knew the side of Gerard that he didn’t want to meet. The one side that he really didn’t want to rile up so he walked away from the fridge, dumping the now empty bottle in the trash, and made his way upstairs early because that was the safest thing for him to do. He was going to be on time and, hopefully, his Master would be pleased with his punctuality.

Frank found himself pacing the hallway; he couldn’t just sit still and wait. He found himself fidgeting and worrying that he might end up being late. What if he sat down and ended up falling back asleep? In his head, he was counting down the minutes and checking the time regularly to see it slowly go by. This felt like the longest time he has ever had to wait to do something, but eventually, it was five-forty-two. He was actually going wake his Master up on time this morning and Frank was fucking relieved. He counted down the seconds in his head, Frank waited by the bedroom door, hand holding onto the door handle. Frank gripped the door handle tighter, tapping his heel against the carpet nervously. _Fucking finally_ , Frank thought as he quietly turned the handle and opened the door before stepping into the darkened bedroom.

Waking up Gerard went a lot better than Frank had envisioned. He still felt bad about running late yesterday and, in true ass-kissing fashion, he made sure to be quick and light on his feet when walking over to the bed. He wasted no time putting a hand on Gerard's shoulder, gently shaking him and greeting his bleary-eyed Master with a smile and a ‘good morning’ when he was roused from his slumber.

He glanced over at his clock once he had sat up in bed and saw that Frank had actually got his act together. Gerard didn’t show that he was impressed despite giving Frank an approving nod, and carried on as he would have done if Frank had done this on a regular basis. Gerard threw the comforter off before he climbed out of bed and headed over to his drawers to retrieve clothes. Frank stood near the bottom of the bed with his hands held behind his back while he looked down, assuming the stance that he did when waiting.

“You need to get dressed for the next activity in your rituals, pup,” Gerard spoke casually as he pulled a t-shirt from one of his mahogany drawers, “You do remember what is next for you to do, don’t you, boy?”  
  
Frank nodded while his insides twisted unhappily; Exercise was something they had touched upon in the past week, but only in conversation. Now that his rituals were fully underway, Frank knew that there was no way he was going to get out of this. As much as he hated the idea of exercising, he knew that he had to do it. It was the one thing that was going to help him cope with what Gerard put him through. Hopefully not what he did to him yesterday again. Frank knew that he could live without that happening again for as long as humanly possible.

But again, he knew that this was something that he was going to have to do. No getting out of it, so Frank sucked it all in, his annoyance and despair over the idea of exercising. He might as well have tried to enjoy it, especially seeing as he wasn’t going to be alone through it. Gerard was going to be with him so he knew that even if he faked enjoying it, which he hoped that he wouldn’t have to do once he got into the swing of it, he was just going to have to lump it because this was what he had to do. This was part of the lifestyle and he knew it, having signed and accepted it in his contract.

“Well, don’t just stand there looking like a lost soul. Go and get ready, boy. I shouldn’t have to tell you to do something that you should already know you have to do.” Gerard instructed, sharply. Frank jumped from the spot and scurried down the hall into his bedroom. For a second Frank stood in his closet and scratched at his head, unsure of what to wear. For someone who was about to exercise for the first time since being forced to do gym at school, Frank stood in the middle of his closet, realizing that he didn’t know if he owned anything that was suitable.

Not wanting to waste any time, he grabbed the only things he had that seemed acceptable. It wasn’t like he needed to look good to exercise. Frank knew that he needed to dress comfortably, especially since he was going to be doing something that he hadn’t done for God knows how long. He rummaged around and grabbed what he needed before quickly dressing himself.

Frank found Gerard downstairs in the front room, warming up and stretching his long limbs. Not that Frank was paying attention to the movements when all he noticed was how Gerard was dressed. It wasn’t the large, but fitted, white t-shirt that caught Frank off guard but the glorious sky-blue poly short shorts with white trim. Frank swallowed as he walked over to Gerard, trying not to focus on his Dominant's gorgeously long legs on display. Gerard's calves were half-encased in white tube socks and his feet in a pair of white trainers.

When Frank saw his Master, It had always been suits and even when he dressed down, he never wore anything remotely close to what he was wearing right now. Frank knew he was blushing; he could feel his face heating up as he joined Gerard. He really tried his best to stay focused, which was proving to be a hard thing to do when all he had in his sight was Gerard stretching and warming up in the wonderous shorts with matching blue and white socks. Gerard glanced over at Frank when he realized he had entered the living room. He was about to speak but stopped instantly when he looked at Frank properly.

“You do know you're going running, boy?” Gerard questioned, looking Frank up and down again. Frank just stood there, frowning at Gerard because he knew what they were going to be doing. As much as he was dreading it, he knew that there was no getting out of it.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re dressing… Like that?” Gerard continued to question. Frank looked down at what he was wearing, pulling his hands out of his sweatpants pockets. He had dressed for comfort. Frank knew that running for the first time in God knows how long was not going to be a walk in the park. He knew he was going to struggle, but he tried to be optimistic. He looked at his all-black outfit that consisted of his sweatpants, a comfy long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of converse.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Frank asked nervously. Maybe he should have been dressed more like Gerard was, but he couldn’t go back on his choices now. Frank didn’t want to feel stupid so he just stood confidently, waiting for his Master to respond.

“Nothing,” Gerard half-snorted, “Just checking that you know what you're doing, boy.”  
  
“I’ve got this, sir,” Frank reassured his Master as confidently as possible, stretching his legs before running on the spot.

“As long as you know what you're doing, boy…” Gerard said as he grabbed two water bottles before giving one of them to Frank, “You’ve got an hour of this.”  
  
“Trust me, sir,” Frank reassured him again, “I’ve got this.”

~

“Sto- God, please stop.” Frank panted out. His lungs felt like they were on fire but he swore that he could do this. He had evidently proved himself wrong as he came to a stop and bent over, hands on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. This was nothing like having to run in gym class back in school. It became very clear from the moment that he started running alongside Gerard. It seemed to be going so well until his body realized what he was trying to do and was having nothing to do with it almost instantly.

“What’s the matter, boy?” Gerard asked, barely breaking a sweat as he ran back to Frank, jogging slowly on the spot as he watched Frank struggle to catch his breath, “I thought you said, and I quote, 'I’ve got this'.”

“I-I have…” Frank nodded, the sweat already beading on his forehead, his legs already feeling like lead. Frank glanced at Gerard briefly, feeling jealous annoyance over the fact that his Master hadn’t even stopped when he came to check on him. Gerard was still running on the spot, not even struggling as Frank looked away. He wiped the sleeve of his shirt against his forehead chastely, “Just, gi-gimme a second… Can’t breathe…”  
  
“Whatever is the matter?” Gerard asked, “You make it look like you’ve never run a day in your life, boy.”

“I… I don’t make a habit of running,” Frank spoke honestly, his throat still burning. He took a long drink on his bottle of water and swallowed, “L-Last time I ran was when… Ryan used to drive me to work sometimes and one day he thought I had a day off. I literally had to run after him just so I could get to work. Practically died when he realized I was chasing him- Fuck. My chest feels like it’s on fuckin' fire.”

“I would say that you are doing rather well, but we’ve barely made it around the block.” Gerard pointed out. It made Frank groan and realize that there was no way in Hell he was going to be able to do this for an hour. He was probably going to die before this was over. Or Gerard was going to have to somehow get him home when his legs gave out.

“Just… Gimme a sec, sir,” Frank held a finger up, gulping down more air, starting to feel that the burning sensation in his chest was starting to dissipate, “I can do this.”

“Clearly,” Gerard smirked, still running on the spot, making Frank internally grumble at the lack of athleticism he had compared to his Master who was clearly more in shape than he was. It wasn’t fair, even though it was. Frank hoped that the fact that he was younger meant that he was more spritely and he could do this, but it was proven to be the opposite with him and Gerard, “Only fifty-five more minutes to go and then you can hit the shower, boy.”

“Fift- Are you serious?” Frank sputtered out. He swore that they had at least been running for twenty minutes. It honestly felt like it with the way Frank’s body fought the surge of movement that he had been doing. His head pounded and he swore that he could feel his heart beating in his fingers and toes. Frank didn’t know if he could do this for fifty-five more minutes. He didn’t want to stop, making himself look like he couldn’t do something that looked so simple for Gerard to do. For someone who wasn’t a showoff, Frank swore that he was as he kept running on the spot, not even stopping to properly check if he was okay. Frank's face was red with heat, sudden exhaustion, and lack of realization that he couldn’t do this. He had to though, even as Gerard kept going, going ahead of Frank in an attempt to get him to move.

“We’ve only been going for five minutes. Come on, Frank,” Gerard looked back encouragingly. Frank cursed under his breath and took one more long drink on his water before hitting the cap shut. As much as he wanted to stop, he pushed on because he wanted to catch up with Gerard who was already a few feet away from him and running briskly. Frank tried to keep his breathing even, remembering old orders that his gym teacher used to shout at the class when they were running. His leg muscles screamed out in protest but Frank kept pushing through, his converse slapping on the tarmac.

He eventually felt so fucking proud of himself when he actually caught up with his Master, huffing loudly as Gerard spoke, “I thought you knew that this wouldn’t just be a quick sprint around the block. Endurance, my boy. Maintaining strength. Keeping yourself fit so your body can cope with what I do to you.”

“I think…” Frank spoke between gasping breaths, “This will kill me more… Than what you do to me… Sir.”

“Nonsense,” Gerard chuckled, “This is a walk in the park compared to the array of things that I could do to you. You should know that by now, boy.”

“True.” Frank panted, the memory of the day before being brought right to the front of his mind. His shoulders had still ached a little this morning, even though it wasn’t too bad. He could ignore it before, not now when his whole body was starting to continuously ache. The only good thing about it was the sheer amount of Gerard's legs that were exposed. The tiny blue shorts that Frank tried not to focus on in fear of getting distracted, but even if he did, it would have been the best distraction in the entire world.

“Now, let’s see if you can keep up for the rest of the hour, boy.” Gerard chimed playfully as he looked over at Frank who felt as though he was about to collapse from heatstroke. He was definitely wearing the wrong clothes but he pushed on, still somehow keeping up with his Master as he swigged on more water while running. Gerard glanced at his submissive, “No more stops. I don’t want this to be a complete waste of time.”

“Yes, sir.” Frank forced the two words out. He knew full well that there was no way in Hell that he was going to still be running by the time the hour was up, but at least he could try.

Or at least that’s what Frank kept telling himself as he continued to keep up with Gerard, only starting to lag behind when the pace began to get too much for him. His head pounded as he fell back, his lungs threatening to seize, and stomach probably about to eject the water he had been downing to keep himself cool. Frank tried so hard; the sweat poured down his face and down his back, it was starting to soak through the shirt he was wearing. A sharp pain hit him in the side all too suddenly like a twisting blade, making his face twist and forcing him to stop, “Oh, Go, ow- Stop. Stop…”

“What now, boy?” Gerard sighed after he turned to see Frank standing with his hands clutched at the side of his stomach. He slowed down and turned back to join Frank with his fingers checking his pulse.

“Cramp. Oh, God- Cramp. Shitty shit, ow- Fuck.” Frank hissed as he held tightly onto his side and tried to breathe, but it only made the pain in him far worse than anything he had ever experienced. This was why he didn’t run, this was why he knew there was no way he was going to make it to the end of the hour.

“In your side, boy?” Gerard asked. Frank was holding his side, nodding at his Master with a pained expression, “You don’t have a cramp.”

“Alright 'House',” Frank huffed out when Gerard held onto his side, applying pressure where it hurt which did help to alleviate some of the intense pain that was shooting through Frank every time he tried to breathe in, “It fucking feels like a cramp. Ow, fuck. Fuck-”

“Language, boy,” Gerard told him off quickly, “You have a stitch; nothing serious. You’re not going to die from it.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?” Frank wheezed. He felt as though he was burning up from the inside out as sweat coated his frame and began seeping through his clothes in a few places.

“A cramp is a contraction in the muscles, usually in the legs muscles when running,” Gerard explained, “What you have is a reduced blood flow to your diaphragm. Touch your toes, boy.”

“What?” Frank stuttered, looking at Gerard, puzzled.

“Do as I say.” Gerard ordered and Frank sighed, wincing at the pain while he bent over, doing what he had been told. He tried to breathe as he held the position for fifteen seconds before the backs of his calves started to strain. He stood up and prepared to feel the sharp, shooting pain in his side, but it was dissipating; he could actually breathe and it didn’t hurt. Frank breathed a sigh of relief, smiling weakly at Gerard.

“How did you do that?”

“Because I know what I’m doing, boy,” Gerard answered, looking Frank up and down once more, “Including how to dress appropriately for exercise.”

“Wh-” Frank started before he realized that Gerard was making a point. Frank realized that maybe he had made a mistake with what he was wearing. Clearly he was overheating, that was a given when he noticed the sweat that had darkened the shirt under his arms and in the middle of his chest. The sweat was pouring down his red face and he could also feel his legs emanating heat. Sweatpants really were the worst thing to wear today. His feet were starting to hurt thanks to the battered Converse he had foolishly donned. Gerard was barely sweating considering he was dressed appropriately, and he was probably way more comfortable.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me, sir?” Frank questioned as he wiped his sweaty brow again before downing another mouthful of water.

“How will you learn if, every time you do something wrong, I tell you that you are in fact doing it wrong, boy.” Gerard answered casually. It made Frank realize that his Master hadn't said anything about his exercise dress code on purpose, “You have to sometimes realize by yourself that what you are doing is wrong. If you didn't want to boil away while running then you would have dressed appropriately. You will know for tomorrow, won't you?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank replied in a small voice as he watched Gerard stretch briefly before running on the spot. Frank tried his best to focus on actually surviving the rest of the time he had to run, but it was hard when his Master was leagues fitter. He made it obvious because he was practically running circles around Frank and literally, too, when Frank quickly stretched his legs.

“Come on, then, boy,” Gerard encouraged his submissive as he jogged backward around him before coming to stop at his left side, “We haven’t got all day to be doing this.”

And somehow Frank kept up; he had no idea how he was doing it as he sweated profusely but he knew that he was burning up from the inside out and was some wonderful shade of red as he ran alongside his Master. But that only lasted for a short while. Frank knew he was running so low on energy by the time they were half an hour in. He wanted to stop, but he could just imagine how Gerard would react if he stopped; he would not have been pleased.

Frank drank a mouthful of water as he ran, noticing how he was slowly starting to lag behind. He didn’t care about the fact he couldn’t drink properly while he was running, spilling more than a mouthful worth of water down his chin and shirt. His head had started to pound and his legs felt like lead. Frank needed to stop; he needed to cool down for a moment, but Gerard wasn’t letting up even as he got a few feet behind. They rounded a corner and headed into a park, and Frank felt grateful that there was no one around to see him struggling. Gerard was still running at a good pace and seemingly fully aware of the fact that Frank was lagging behind him.

“Come on, boy,” Gerard called out as he looked over his shoulder, “End of the park and we can take a break.”  
  
A break sounded good, but Frank knew that he wouldn’t be able to make it to the end of the park without having a coronary in the process. His eyes stung from the sweat and he felt like he was going to collapse at any given moment. Gerard was so far ahead of him now that Frank knew there was no way he was going to be able to catch up with him. It felt like this was the end and a small part of Frank felt the urge to call ‘pineapples’. He fought it, even though his whole body struggled to move like he was dragging a dead-weight behind him. Frank looked up, blinking hard to try and focus on the fact that Gerard was running on the spot ahead of him so he could catch up. His brain was slamming on the brakes, his brain knew that his body was flying a white flag.

Out of all the things that Frank noticed in the park, he heard ducks. The noise made him look to his left where he saw the expanse of a pond that stretched out. In his head, it registered as more of a priority over Gerard calling out to him. The water looked disgusting; it was a murky brown color and filled with pond scum, but to an overheating Frank, it looked divine- Like a cool shower on a boiling hot day. Frank’s dead body screamed out for relief, Gerard was only a few yards away from him, but the water was closer. He didn’t care if anyone saw what he was considering doing. Frank didn’t even think twice as he stopped and took in a few lungfuls of air, catching his breath. He wiped his face dry and looked over at Gerard, who had stopped running. His Master his hands on his hips as he watched Frank, he might as well have been tapping his foot and pointing to his watch. At that moment, Frank didn’t care when Gerard called out. He ignored him despite knowing there was going to be serious consequences. Frank turned on the spot, uncaring about anything other than what he was about to do because the heat was too much. He knew that he couldn’t just strip off in the park to cool down; indecent exposure was definitely something that he couldn’t do around Gerard, no matter how hot he was.

His exhausted legs fought the burn in his muscles, his whole body hated him for running again. It would be over soon and he was going to be okay, even if what he was about to do was something that Gerard clocked onto seconds before he did it. It was a shock move that even Frank couldn’t believe he was doing, but he was and there was nothing that could stop him as he dove forward and took in a sharp breath of air. In an instant, there was nothing, and then there was the cool rush of relief surrounding Frank as he hit the water with a splash. The rushing roar filled his ears and his overheating body felt like it was sizzling as he remained submerged under the water for a second before he surfaced, gasping for air, pushing water out of his face and back over his head. He had just jumped into the dirtiest water he had ever seen but he didn’t care. A smile spread on Frank's face despite his soaked clothes that clung to his frame. The cold water drenched him and cooled him down to his ragged core. He still looked so red and so unbelievably hot and overworked on his first time running with his Master.

Frank didn’t even want to look up because he knew who was standing at the edge of the pond and looking down at him with abhorred disgust plastered over his face. Frank just stood in the waist-high water for a second, still wiping water out of his face that was running down from his fringe.He squinted up to see his Master stood by the side of the pond in the same stance he had been in when he was waiting for Frank to catch up to him. His hands on his hips, but the look on his face was something that had Frank’s stomach churn; he couldn’t read Gerard's stoic expression.

The countenance was more ‘shock’ because the boy stood in the water, looking like some timid dog who had just jumped into a muddy puddle because it looked like fun. Clearly, Frank hadn’t done this for fun and Gerard could tell just by looking at the boy's glowing face. The boy who was drenched in feculent water, his clothes were tinted a wonderfully disgusting shade of brown and pond weeds were wrapped around the sleeves of his shirt. Frank looked a disgrace, but Gerard didn’t move a muscle.

“I think…” Frank started, catching his breath as his body temperature finally began to drop back down to something normal, “Next time… I need shorts.”

He hoped to break the awkward tension that he could sense in the air around the two of them. Frank swore that his heart was about to surrender and let him just die instead of having to go through another bout of punishment like he had done the day before. He couldn’t get in trouble over this, even though he was so sure that he would. Gerard didn’t respond to Frank, who didn’t dare come nearer or ask for help to get out. The sheer lack of respect and the lack of obedience usually would have had Gerard steaming, but he remained completely composed the whole time he stood by the water. Frank had no idea about his Master's feelings because Gerard’s facial expression remained the same for the time being. He looked at his saturated boy that stood amongst the ducks that were starting to come closer to him. Even Gerard couldn’t stop the small affectionate smile that tugged at his lips followed by him shaking his head because something like this should have been beyond unacceptable, but Gerard found it funnier than anything else.

“I think you do, my boy.” Gerard finally responded. His small smile had Frank relaxing in his cooling pond-bath, “And I think next time we avoid jumping headfirst into the pond, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Frank sighed, finally feeling somewhat back to his normal body temperature as he waded back towards the edge of the pond, wanting to get out of the water before the wildlife attacked him for food that he didn’t have.

“Straight home, hot shower,” Gerard instructed as he pulled the boy out of the water by the arm, shaking his hand off and wincing, “God knows what bacteria is in that water. Not having you getting sick from E-coli or what other delights lurk in that pond.”

Frank repeated another ‘yes sir’ again as they started to walk, his converse squelching on the ground, every item of clothing he had on now dripped and clung to him as he ambled along uncomfortably in his uncomfortable pants.

Once they were home, Frank had barely set a foot in the house before Gerard stopped him and told him to stand still in the main entrance.

“If you drip one drop of pond water on Lindsey's carpets… It won’t be _you_ getting in trouble,” Gerard looked at Frank pointedly as he walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a trash bag from underneath the sink before walking back over the Frank, “I will be the one getting it in the neck, even though you, boy, were the one to unexpectedly plunge yourself into noxious pond water. Clothes off, now, in the bag.”

Frank did as he was told and stripped down, peeling the wet clothes from his body to chuck them into the black bag as each item was removed. By the end of it, Frank was shivering and completely naked as he wrapped his arms around his chest in a weak attempt to keep himself warm.

Going from overheating to walking back in sodden clothes had cooled Frank down, but it had made him colder than he intended to be. His teeth chattered quietly in his mouth as Gerard chucked the boy's once-red but now-ruined Converse into the bag tying it off before holding it at arm's length.

“You do realize you ruined your clothes, boy,” Gerard pointed out, looking over at Frank briefly, “The whole lot should be burnt instead of being washed.” Frank didn’t say anything, he just remained where he was standing and he wished that he was warmer and a little more dressed.

“Well, go on, then. Go get in the shower, boy,” Gerard ordered, snapping his fingers at Frank to move, “We don’t have all the time in the world you know. Disinfect yourself before you even consider stepping out of that shower. And don’t take too long,” Gerard reminded Frank as he walked towards the stairs, “Breakfast doesn’t cook itself, you know.”


	48. Your Sarcasm is Intensely Unappreciated, Sir

Frank let out a small groan as he ambled through the front door of his home that evening, whining unhappily as Gerard guided him into the living room. He set the meek submissive down gingerly on the sofa and perched himself next to Frank to look him over.

"You look peaked." Gerard commented in a soft whisper as he put his hand on Frank's forehead, "And you feel warm."

"I feel awful." Frank groaned unhappily, "Stupid exercise. My whole body hurts, sir."

"I doubt it was entirely the exercise at fault. I also think it was your impromptu dip in that nuclear waste this morning. You probably have a virus brewing." Gerard muttered as he got up. Frank yelped unhappily and wrapped his arms around Gerard's waist, whining pitifully as he clung on, "Relax, dear boy. I'm going to make you some tea. Come on now."

Frank grumbled as he let go, flopping down onto the sofa as he bundled himself into Gerard's coat that had been draped around his shoulders. He heard Gerard busying himself in the kitchen and the faint grow of the rolling boil in the kettle. He glanced up when black pants came into view and saw his Master looking down at him with amused concern, "You really become rather needy when you're sick, don't you?"

"Am not." Frank replied thickly, "I'm a fuckin' warrior. I'm a big boy."

"If you are indeed such a big boy," Gerard slid his hands into his pockets, "Then I suppose you're okay with tending to yourself and sleeping in your own bed tonight?"

"I-" Frank paused, "I'm less of a big boy."

"While you ruminate on that," Gerard helped his submissive up into a sitting position, "I thought perhaps you'd like to know that I wanted to continue your training. But I can see that you're under the weather."

Frank perked up and looked at his Master with steadily growing intrigue and watched him walk back into the kitchen, "Training?"

"Nothing too strenuous, I don't want to exacerbate whatever virus is train-hopping through your system like a vagrant." Gerard smiled as he poured the scalding water into a mug, steeping the teabag slowly, "But if you're too sick..."

"I'm okay." Frank offered in earnest as he took the mug from his Master, inhaling the comforting chamomile scent that wafted through the steam. He took a small sip, humming as it warmed his throat, "What training would it be, sir?"

"Some bonding between us." Gerard commented, "Me getting to know your physical limits a little more in terms of your pain threshold."

"I see." Frank muttered, taking another sip, "I won't say 'no'. I trust your judgment. If you think I can handle it if I have a cold, then I know it's okay."

"Your trust in me is heartwarming, Frank." Gerard squeezed his submissive's knee and looked at him, "Only if you feel up to it."

"I am, sir." Frank nodded, and Gerard unfastened his tie, looking down at Frank as he took a sip of tea.

"You finish that and then meet me in the playroom, understand?" Gerard shrugged his suit jacket from his shoulders and folded it over his arm delicately, "Don't burn your tongue. That's my job."

Frank smiled sheepishly as he watched Gerard turn and ascend the stairs, disappearing from view as he went into the hallway. Frank clutched his mug in both hands and looked down at his socks, curling his toes in the shag carpet.

Once Frank had drained the last of his tea and had put the cup in the sink, he hung Gerard's coat on the hook by the door before he slowly traipsed up the stairs. He looked at the entrance to the playroom that was ajar, and he could see the red and warm-white light reflecting on the polished wood floor. He peered into the room, and he saw Gerard staring at him with the slightest smirk when they locked eyes.

"Nice of you to join me," Gerard spoke in a stern but quiet tone. He adjusted one of his sleeves that he had previously rolled up, "Come in, boy."

Frank walked into the room and shut the door behind him, standing on the Persian rug with his hands behind his back as he waited for more instruction.

"Play collar on, clothes off," Gerard ordered simply as he put his hands on his knees, waiting patiently as Frank stripped out of his work suit, folding the pants and blazer haphazardly on the wooden chair in the corner. He pulled off his socks and his boxers and set them aside on the pile along with his wine-colored tie. He unbuttoned the grey shirt and put it aside, ducking his head as he walked over to the unlocked velvet display of all of his collars.

He unfastened the simple velvet collar from around his neck and put it on it's awaiting ledge before he faltered and looked back at his Master, "Sir?"

"Boy?"

"If it's... If It's training, then should I put on my training collar or my play collar, sir?" Frank asked timidly and saw Gerard's eyes suddenly alight with the twinkle he recognized almost immediately.

"Such an attentive boy." Gerard praised lightly as he tilted his head, "Training collar for your training scenes, boy."

Frank smiled sheepishly as he grabbed the dark red collar, unhooking the buckle at the back to secure it snugly around his throat. He slipped a finger into the collar to check on the tightness, smiling before he went back to stand in front of his Master, staring down at the gorgeous red and beige rug under his feet.

"We're working on your pain endurance today, boy. But no implements, don't you worry." Frank glanced up to see Gerard casually massaging his palm with the thumb of his other hand. Frank swallowed hard and looked back down, ignoring the instant flame that lit up in his lower belly, "What do you think of when you first think of this lifestyle, Frank? Be honest; I won't be mad."

"Pain." Frank whispered almost immediately, "And... Obedience. Um, balance of control. Consent."

"A very astute answer." Gerard whispered as he massaged each of his fingers slowly, "And what are your thoughts on 'pain' itself, Frank?"

"It's a good stress release." Frank shrugged, "And it's something I can see myself getting addicted to in a good way. Now that I've gotten a taste for it, I'm trying to figure out how I went so long without it."

"The Marquis De Sade did once say that sex without pain is like food without taste. Do you agree?" Gerard asked curiously, and Frank pursed his lips.

"I think... I don't think so. I think regular sex is a different type of food that's so much safer. Like a chicken soup that your mom would make that you know real well. At the same time, sex with pain or a bondage scene is something more. It's like going to a restaurant and having your food ordered for you. It's the excitement of the unknown, and it's nothing you've ever had, and, yeah, it may burn your tongue, but if you like it then you're gonna order it again."

Gerard looked at his submissive with an unreadable gaze, a gaze so filled with many emotions in a swirled cocktail that Frank so badly wanted to taste. Gerard nodded, "I agree. And besides, if you do something one too many times, then you tend to get sick of it. It's ingrained in human nature to get bored with the same thing, and that can happen even with the pain. Mixing up your intake of both the safe and the unknown is a good balance. And, as we know, balance is essential. Now, what about when you think of your own title as a submissive?"

"Trust." Frank whispered, "Devotion and... Being powerless, I guess. But not."

"I suppose you're right in a way." Gerard nodded, "Being a submissive isn't about being powerless, dear boy. It's about the conscious decision to gift that power over you to someone that you deem most worthy of it."

Frank almost smiled at that as he locked eyes with his Dominant for a split second and looked back down, fidgeting with his fingers behind his back when Gerard asked again, "What about myself as a Dominant?"

"Strength. Protection." Frank answered immediately, "Worship."

"How admirable, boy." Gerard's voice sounded as though he were almost smiling, "I like your thinking. Always remember certain things about Dominants, despite the fact that there are many types of them out there, all Doms share key points and that is how you weed out the real Doms and the ones that use the lifestyle as abuse and as a crutch for getting off."

"And what is that, sir?"

"A true Dominant does not just take control of you or try to order you around because they can. That's not Dominance, that's bullying. A true Dominant is always respectful of you and your limits. They will guide you, instruct you, and encourage you. They will help you and drive you to reach your full potential. Not just in the bedroom but in your life. A true Dominant will be the most supportive person you will ever meet. They will challenge you and teach you things that you never knew about yourself. They bring out the very best shades in your truest colors and allow you to paint with them in ways that others would not." Gerard recalled simply, "Most submissives paint in red, purple, and black and blue. All beautiful shades that I have yet to create under your skin, pup."

Frank swallowed hard, blinking hard as his breath hitched in his throat. Gerard patted his thighs lightly and Frank looked up. Gerard tilted his head, "Over my lap, if you please."

Frank felt his cheeks already warming up immensely as he tentatively crossed the distance between himself and Gerard. He turned and carefully draped himself over his Master's lap, his semi resting in the crevice between his Master's lean thighs, "Good boy. Now tell me your safeword."

"Pineapples, sir."

"Thank you. Now, we're going to be testing your threshold and pain scale. I'm going to spank you, boy, and you're going to give me a number between one and ten. I don't want to ever hurt you any further than that unless it's deemed necessary. And understand that each implementation has its own scale considering each item hits differently. Oddly enough, on th pain scale itself, a hand os only about a 'four' itself whereas canes, bamboo, and belts are considered 'nine' and above. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Frank whispered, whimpering quietly when Gerard's hand skated down over both of his ass cheeks.

"Can you tell me why we're doing this?" Gerard asked curiously as he repeated the action, warming Frank's skin to the same temperature as his palms.

"Because your pain scale could be different from mine, sir?" Frank offered, "Your 'five' is different from what I would say a 'five' is, and it's better communication?"

"Couldn't have said it any better." Gerard sighed softly as he squeezed the plump flesh, "You really are such a gorgeous sight, little runt."

Frank ducked his head down, blushing rosy as he readjusted, "Thank you, sir."

There was a moment of silence before Gerard's hand came down in a light slap that surprised his submissive. Frank moaned out at the sensitive wave of pain that shot through his left ass cheek, it was surprisingly gentle but still tightened a knot in his stomach. He gave it a moment of thought before answering, "A three, sir."

"Good boy." Gerard's free arm wrapped around Frank's waist to keep him in place. A slightly harder palm bounced off of the right cheek. Frank grunted at the impact, exhaling a shaky breath as his sensitive semi rubbed against the rough material of Gerard's black slacks.

"A five, sir." Frank offered as he shifted, his toes keeping him barely balanced on the floor. A lighter slap followed just after his answer and he yelped in surprise. The sound that left his lips had Gerard chuckling lightly as he massaged the skin, "A two. A very surprising two."

"Good to know," Gerard whispered as his thumb graced over the very inner curve of Frank's ass, way too close to Frank's involuntarily clenched hole. His hand disappeared before it landed with a loud and swift resonance to Frank's already simmering right cheek. He cried out and hung his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Six, sir." Frank panted. His head was starting to buzz from being tilted downward with all of the blood rushing to his skull. He didn't mind it too much but it did make him acutely aware of his sinuses and his ears.

"Green or orange, boy? Are you okay?"

"Perfect, sir." Frank answered honestly, his voice starting to sound thicker thanks to the pressure in his head, "Green, sir."

Gerard hummed in response as he took note of Frank's answer, massaging his skin diligently. Frank waited for the next sharp blow to his skin, but when it hit, it was a lot harder than he had anticipated and the pain had his entire body lurch forward. He screamed out, the air felt as though it had been punched from his lungs and his legs lifted as he tried to move away. Tears welled in his eyes as he dug his fingernails into the underside of Gerard's thigh, shuddering out a weak "E-Eight."

"Color?"

"In between green and yellow." Frank admitted with a watery warble in his voice, "Chartreuse, right?"

"I take it that one had more than some spice to it, my boy?" Gerard chuckled when he heard Frank whining uncomfortably. Frank huffed, wincing as Gerard palmed his searing flesh. He placed another light slap right over the area where the other mark had been and Frank whined out, biting on his lip as he squirmed. He could already feel his mouth filling with saliva as his heart raced against his ribs.

"God, fuck-" Frank hissed out as spit ran down his chin and dropped onto the wooden floor in a thin spindrel, "That on its own was like a 'three' but that felt like a fucking 'seven'."

"Duly noted," Gerard replied calmly as he caressed the back of Frank's thigh slowly. Frank felt his leg shake uncontrollably under the touch. Frank gritted his teeth as he waited for the slap to happen yet again. The agony shot through his skin and his bones all at once, the gut-punch branding to his skin had him scream out sharply and scramble from his Master's lap, "Red! Red! No! Fuck you, dude! Ow, fuck-!"

The pain was so intense that he physically couldn't keep himself still. He hopped backward, a hand on his fiery skin, and whined as he stood in the corner of the room. Gerard tilted his head to the side as he shook his hand lightly, "A 'ten', I presume?"

"Fuck..." Frank heaved out, his knees buckling at the agony that made him almost want to cry, "I fucking hated that."

"My sincerest apologies." Gerard remained seated as they looked at each other, "Are you okay?"

"It fucking hurts." Frank whined unhappily, "My whole right leg is numb to my toes."

"That doesn't answer my question." Gerard chuckled, "Are you okay, boy?"

"I'll live." Frank didn't move from his spot in the corner by the door, eyeing his Master, "That one fucking sucked."

"It's meant to be unpleasant, Frank. I'm hurting you; I'm not draping you in silk, Aphrodite."

"Your sarcasm is intensely unappreciated, sir." Frank muttered as he edged closer, "Christ on a corndog."

"Such a creative mouth." Gerard snickered lightly as he crossed an ankle over the other, "It really is one of your most defining qualities, my dear boy."

"Oh, yeah?" Frank looked up, "My mouth?"

"Your mouth."

Frank tilted his head and brought his hand up to his lip, "This mouth, sir."

"That mouth, runt."

Frank took another step closer, curiosity took ahold of his insides, and tied them up like a twisted balloon art. He bit his lip before asking, "Sir? What else about me do you like?"

"Your sense of humor is impeccable even if it's poorly timed." Gerard noted his submissive, "Your eyes are very expressive, as well. For those who know how to read them, anyway."

"Can you?"

"I like to think I'm getting there." Gerard offered, "I also like your tenacity and your willingness to try the unknown."

"Thank you, sir."

"You have very nice legs, too," Gerard noted as his eyes trailed down. Frank looked down at his legs and his feet automatically curled in toward each other. Frank looked up with his brows knitted when Gerard continued, "They're shapely but not bulky, they're lean but not skinny, and I can see they're a lot stronger than they seem to be."

"Oh." Frank looked down, "I never noticed that but... Yeah, they are. I always push with my legs rather than my arms."

"Your body as a whole is a marvel to me, pup." Gerard acquiesced, "Strong legs and a defined little waist and a rear-end that which a woman would feel envious over."

"I-" Frank rolled his lips into his mouth to stop the coy giggle that wanted to leave him, his cheeks flushing.

"That blush." Gerard sighed, "It's becoming a personal goal of mine to have your face constantly in that shade whether it's from word or physical action."

"You're hitting personal best, if I may say so, sir."

"You've done so well, today." Gerard extolled toward his submissive, "Even with a cold, you managed to get through your training."

"Was that all of it?"

"I told you it wasn't a strenuous activity." Gerard unfastened his belt nonchalantly, "I didn't want to put you through too many paces and make you feel even worse."

"Thank you, sir." Frank glanced down at Gerard's hands when he saw them move to the leather and steel that he had unbuckled so skillfully. Frank's eyes widened for a mere fraction of a moment when he noted the near-full erection in his Master's lap. He glanced down, trying to calm the heart rate that had suddenly spiked in his throat and in his lower stomach.

"If you want to conclude your training, you are dismissed, boy." Gerard declared in a washed tone that had Frank lookup with unease and uncertainty.

"Sir?" Frank took a small step closer, "And if I don't wanna leave?"

Gerard's gaze on his submissive instantly darkened with an intrigue that had Frank's arms litter with goosebumps almost instantly. Gerard leaned forward slightly and pointed to the ground with his index and middle fingers. Frank dropped to his knees on the spot, his eyes still on his Master for further instruction despite the burning in his skin from where his knees had met the carpet fibers.

Gerard's face adjusted with satisfied scrutiny at Frank's quick actions, his hand resting at the apex of his inner thigh, so mouthwateringly close to where Frank was eyeing. He glanced up and saw his Master staring at him with the heaviest contemplation as he began speaking again, "I know you're most likely going to have a cold, boy. And I know you're still riding on a subdrop so I don't advise on a heavy scene for today, but..."

Frank's ears immediately perked when he heard the tonal inflection on the last word his Master had uttered. He kept quiet, letting Gerard continue, "That doesn't mean I won't reward you for how well you did today. All things considered, you didn't slip at all."

"Thank you, sir."

"Answer me something, pup," Gerard prefaced as leaned back to unfasten and unzip his pants, pushing them down around his knees before he continued, "Tell me what you think about when you have a hand on yourself."

"I-" Frank sputtered at the question, surprised by the abrupt and unexpected salacity, "I-It depends, sir."

"Go on."

Frank grimaced at the claim before it even left his lips, "On whether it's just me or if I'm... Watching something."

"Enlighten me."

Gerard stared down at his submissive, who chewed on his lip as he thought. Frank finally answered, "If I'm watching, like, porn or something then I'm pretty focused on what I'm watching and I don't really think of much else. I'm kinda picky with the porn I watch and I won't just pick anything to get off. Even the sounds of one of the guys could turn me off and I won't watch it."

"Understandable." Gerard nodded thoughtfully, "What about when you're riding solo, boy? What's on your mind?"

"W-Well, I... For a long time, sir, it's been you." Frank admitted and looked down at his legs, the blush spreading to his ears and chest as he admitted the one thing he's been hiding for almost six weeks now.

"I see. What about me, exactly?"

"Everything." Frank whispered softly, "Every damn thing. I- All of you. Your hair and your fingers and your eyes and every single part of you. Head to toe, sir. You're all I think of when I-" Fank cut himself off when he realized that he was now achingly hard as flashing images of the things he had mentioned were now flashing behind his eyes. He squirmed on his knees and tried his best to ignore how his erection was curving toward his stomach and desperate for touch.

"I see." Gerard replied nonchalantly, "It's funny you say that, boy. You're what I think of when I touch myself, too."

Frank's head shot up with genuine consternation at the admission, his eyes wide and his lips parted dumbly, "R-Really?"

"Every damn thing." Gerard reiterated Frank's words right back at him, "All of you. Your hair and your fingers and your eyes and every single part of you. Head to toe, boy."

Frank gasped shakily as he watched Gerard's hand snaked higher, his thumb grazing over the clothed erection in his lap. He looked up in earnest, opening his mouth, but closed it again when he realized that he didn't have permission to speak despite his Master stating that they weren't in a scene.

"Even before I had you in my bed. In fact, since we met, you were on my mind. Of course, I tried not to think of such an innocent boy in such a depraved manner..." Gerard sighed, "But how could a selfish man as I deny myself something so beautiful even if it was just my own sordid imagination."

"Wh-What things, sir?" Frank couldn't help the words that tumbled from his lips before he could stop them. He couldn't even begin to picture what Gerard looked like when he was all alone and desperate; but how he ached to know. Gerard lifted a hand, crooking his index finger to gesture his submissive closer. Frank obeyed immediately and crawled closer on his hands and knees, sitting himself in the same position as before, but so much closer.

Gerard pushed his black work pants down to his feet before toeing them aside on the floor, his bare legs bracketing his submissive who had edged even closer. Frank put his face on Gerard's thigh, muzzling him affectionately for a moment as he looked up at his Master. He sat up straight and bit his lip, waiting with bated breath for Gerard to speak.

"This pretty mouth of yours made so many appearances," Gerard muttered silkily as he reached down to run the tip of his thumb over Frank's bottom lip, "All the sounds it could make and how pretty it would look when I put it to good use."

Frank itched to show his Master exactly how he could put his mouth to good use. He was so close to his Master's erection and all he wanted was to taste it and feel it stretch his mouth and weigh his tongue down. He fought every lewd impulse that fired through his synapses at that moment and focused on listening to his Master.

"Those eyes also played a prominent feature," Gerard added in the same hushed cadence as he toyed with the elastic of his boxers before finally pushing them down to his feet. Frank helped his Master from the offending article, putting them aside as he grazed over Gerard's arch with his hand. He held Gerard's foot in both hands when it had lifted, and he glanced up at his Master as he slowly bent down to place a kiss to the top of his foot. Frank looked up, hoping that he had done something right, and was met with a hand carding through his hair adoringly, "Such a good boy."

"Yours, sir."

"All mine." Gerard noted, "Where was I, boy?"

"My eyes, sir." Frank reminded his Master as he looked up at him, "Right?"

"All I wanted to do for so long was look into those green irises when I made you hurt and see how they fill with tears. So many times I wanted to see them dilate when I make you mine." Gerard uttered as his hand wrapped around himself, stroking way too slowly. Frank swallowed hard, whimpering as his eyes darted between the exquisite hand motions and his Master's face looking down at him, "That beautiful throat of yours, too. How I wanted to wrap my hand around it so many times and feel you try and breathe under my touch. Or to feel it tighten around me when I fuck your mouth."

Frank whined instantly at the words, his own hand now around his length, stroking his aching length as he panted shakily, "P-Please, sir."

"Up." Gerard ordered, "Up here with me. _Now_."

Frank scrambled to his feet and instantly climbed into his Master's lap, moaning at the contact of warm skin on his own. His shaky fingers tugged at Gerard's burnt orange tie, tugging it over his head to throw it aside. He groaned at the splayed hands over his sensitive ass cheeks, the hands holding him so close as Frank tried to unbutton his Master's shirt as fast as humanly possible. Gerard managed to shrug the material down from his shoulders and barely got the shirt from his arms before Frank was rutting against him, whining and pleading for any semblance of tactility.

Gerard situated his submissive down properly on his lap, one hand on Frank's hip to still him when the other long-fingered grip wrapped around both of their lengths, stroking them both in tandem. Frank keened at the sensation, his eyes closing as fizzles of pleasure shot through his system. His hands were on Gerard's shoulders, digging his fingernails into the pale flesh of his Master.

"Look at me, little runt," Gerard spoke sonorously, his words so soft but holding so much command that Frank couldn't help but obey. He looked down at his Master as the hand around them both continued to stroke with a deliberate pace, "So many times I wished I could bend you over and fill you up, little fucktoy. So many times I had to settle for my own hand when all I wanted was your pretty hole."

"'S yours." Frank gasped out breathlessly when the pace quickened, his hips stuttering as he wanted so badly to fuck into his Master's hand, "I-I want it."

"Such a needy boy for me." Gerard crooned as he looked up, his hand moving from Frank's hip to anchor behind him, keeping himself up as he leaned back to lift his hips up a fraction higher, "For who, pup? Tell me who you belong to."

"You." Frank moaned brokenly, "Only you. N-No one else."

"That's right, mon cher. All mine." Gerard whispered as he pulled Frank into him with a hand in his hair. Frank buried his head in his Master's neck, taking in the leather-musk of his cologne as he sucked on the juncture of his throat, "Shit-"

"P-Please. So, so good. Make feel so good." Frank moaned out as he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the friction if his Master's cock sliding with his own, slick with shared precome, "Oh, God. Shit."

"Let me hear you, boy. If you want to come then you work for it." Gerard slowed to an almost stop and thumbed at the head of his own dick. Frank glanced down, watching avidly as spit fell from his lips and down over his Master's chest.

"S-Sir? I-..." Frank croaked out brokenly, "I want you so badly. I wanna come. But, I... I want you more."

"What do you want?" Gerard asked as his hand in Frank's hair tightened to pull his submissive from the safe spot in his neck. Frank looked down at his Master with a whine when Gerard repeated his question, "What do you want, pup?"

"I want you...in my mouth." Frank breathed out, his cheeks flushing as the words left him. Gerard's eyes darkened, the molten want in his hazel irises were intense and daunting; it made Frank's stomach churn with even more need.

"I won't stop you." Gerard replied simply, "You deserve it, boy."

Frank climbed from his Master's lap onto the bed beside him and turned to face him. Gerard sat back on both elbows as Frank wrapped a hand around his Master's length, pumping at a steady pace. Gerard let out a low groan as his head fell back on his shoulders and Frank leaned in, taking his Master into his mouth as far as he could in one go. Gerard cursed under his breath, a hand knotting in Frank's chestnut locks to hold him in place for a second longer, pushing him down to the base. Frank sobbed at the raw stretch in his throat, gagging lightly around the intrusion in his throat. He was pulled off and he gasped, saliva falling from his mouth in a thick spool as his eyes watered.

"There's my pretty boy." Gerard crooned softly, "Look at you, pup. So wrecked already."

Frank whined at the words and sunk back down on his own, taking his Master back into his mouth. Gerard fell back on the bed with a small groan and wrapped an arm around Frank's leg to pull him across the silk sheets. Frank pulled off, yelping in surprise as he was scooted closer. He looked practically behind him at Gerard, who didn't say anything as he pushed Frank's leg up from the bed and pulled it even closer until Frank had a leg on either side of his Master's chest.

Frank opened his mouth to speak when he was scooted even further back and a tongue pressed at his hole. He keened low in his throat as his internal resolve crumbled his entire body and he fell forward onto his hands and knees. He pushed himself back toward his Master, feeling hands spreading him open as his rim was sucked on and pushed into by his Master's skilled tongue.

"Fuck-" Frank whispered, his thighs shaking. He remembered where he was meant to be and leaned down, using his tongue to slide his Master's cock back into his mouth. His hands curled around the edge of the bed, moaning around Gerard as he bobbed up and down, trying to split his focus between pleasing his Master and just how exquisite it was to have his Master pleasing him. He shifted, rolling his hips back, as he pulled off of Gerard to stroke him quickly. Frank felt a finger slide into him and he groaned, his shoulders hunching as he sat up to rock himself on Gerard's two fingers. He glanced back over his shoulder, whining when Gerard licked his bottom lip and lay back, his fingers curling and sliding slick from the spit. Frank moaned softly, "S-Sir, I-"

"Tell me, boy."

"I want... I wanna..." Frank groaned, his brain unable to focus on anything other than what his Master was doing to him. He looked back again, "I wanna do something."

Gerard paused the pace that he'd settled on previously, his two fingers still buried into his submissive, his cheeks flushed and his eyes curious, "Do what, dear boy?"

"I wanna, um..." Frank frowned as he pulled off of Gerard's fingers and climbed from his perch over his Master's chest. He saw Gerard's puzzled face and his blushed cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink, "Don't look at me like that."

"I'm curious, is all. I've never known you to physically remove yourself from any part of me when you're so close to coming." Gerard chuckled tersely, "Whatever it is has my interest piqued."

"I-I want you to, um..." Frank stopped and felt his face grow warmer as he avoided Gerard's fascinated gaze, "To, um..."

"Tell me, boy." Gerard urged as he wrapped a hand around himself, stroking to keep himself as hard as painfully possible for Frank. Frank whined as he leaned down to put his mouth around his Master but Gerard's wrist stopped him, flush with his cheek, "No, boy. You use your words. Tell me. Communicate with your Dominant."

"F- I- I want..." Frank closed his eyes as he whispered it under his breath, his voice cracking on almost every syllable.

"I didn't hear you, pup. Try again."

Frank swallowed against the shy lump in his throat and stared at his Master's hand as it stroked and thumbed at the leaking slit. Frank whined, "Do I have to, sir?"

"Yes." Gerard's voice dropped with an authoritative lilt that had Frank's stomach tense immediately, "Tell me or you get nothing."

"I want... I want you to...to f-fuck my mouth." Frank whispered quietly, "P-Please."

"A little louder, boy. I didn't quite hear you."

"Fuck my mouth, please, sir." Frank spoke slightly louder than before, eyeing his Master before he looked down, "Please, sir."

"Keep going. Beg for it."

Frank whined out unhappily and yelped when Gerard's hand came down hard on the top of his thigh. He shivered as hot prickles rose from the warm handprint on his leg, and stared at his Master's hand on his thigh like a comforting vice, "Please, sir. Please fuck my mouth. I-I want it. I want you in my mouth and I wanna choke and cry. I want... I-I need it. Need it."

"You need it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Such a needy fucktoy." Gerard whispered as he sat up, "On your knees." Frank obeyed and slid from the bed onto the floor where he had previously been, sitting up on his knees as Gerard stood up and took hold of Frank's hair in his hand, "What's your signal?"

Frank held up three fingers for his Master as he opened his mouth, waiting and wanting when his Master's cock was so close but so far away. He glanced up once more at Gerard, who tilted his head and ordered, "Beg, little runt."

"Fuck my mouth, sir. Please. Please, I'll do anything. I need it. Need you. Only you. Please..." Frank hissed out when the hand in his hair tightened, "P-Put me in my place. Do what you want, I- I'll take anything. I need it..."

Gerard didn't answer Frank's desperate plea and instead, he leaned forward, rubbing the tip of his dick over Frank's pierced bottom lip. Frank opened his mouth obediently as his head was pulled back, their eyes locking as Gerard's free hand wrapped around his dick. He stroked himself with two languid pumps of his hand before tapping the head of his dick on the side of Frank's jaw, making him whine.

"Be careful for what you ask, boy." Gerard whispered as he slid the head of his dick into Frank's mouth slowly before pulling out again, "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"So sure." Frank replied desperately, "Sir?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I... Touch myself, too?" Frank asked weakly, remembering the last time he had been on his knees for his Master and had gotten in trouble for making himself come in the process. He added in a small, "Please."

Gerard nodded in response, watching Frank immediately wrap his fingers in a tight ring around his dick, stroking and whining at the friction to his aching length. Gerard slid his own cock into Frank's mouth slowly, filling halfway along his length when he hit the back of Frank's throat. He tutted gently, "Sweet boy, you're never going to be able to take me deep enough like this. You're going to choke and gag. I think we need to have you practicing daily on that gag reflex."

Frank nodded desperately. He didn't know what daily practice for a gag reflex would entail but he was definitely willing to participate. He whined unhappily around his Master and he knew that if he could pout, he would.

"Don't fret, cockslut," Gerard noted the tone to Frank's murmur and added, "That doesn't mean I won't push your limits and make you take it anyway. I know what a good boy you are when you're choking on me."

Frank whimpered roughly as he massaged at his own balls with his hand, groaning as he ran a finger over his own taint, applying pressure in the same way that his Master would if he had his hands on him. Gerard set a slow pace at first, rocking his hips and thrusting slowly into his submissive's already spit-wet mouth. Frank maintained eye contact with his Master, exhaling shakily through his nose as the ache in his jaw settled in for the rest of their time in this position. Frank could taste the bitter precome spread over his tastebuds and the sugar-subtle aftertaste that he had come to crave over the past few days.

Gerard picked up short but punctuated thrusts, his long fingers splayed over either side of Frank's head to hold him still and in place. Frank relaxed the muscles from the shoulders up and closed his eyes, moaning when he felt Gerard's cock breach the back of his mouth and rut into his throat. He pumped himself quickly, the knots of heat tightening fervently with his evergrowing release.

Frank felt the small wash of panic rise in his throat despite how much he had tried to hold it back and he gagged, grunting as tears filled his eyes. Gerard didn't stop when Frank moaned around the intrusion, shaking his head for his Master to stop.

He didn't want it to stop but his body felt as though it were going to collapse. He brought a hand up, clawing into his Master's thigh with rapid and fervid nails to get him to move away. The tears spilled down his face as he gagged again, his stomach heaving against his diaphragm. The spit was now flowing freely from his lips whenever it was drawn out from a pull-back of his Master's cock. It ran in thick tendrils down under his chin and his neck and had already landed on his thighs and spread into the backs of his bent knees.

Frank hit his fist against his Master's leg, grunting as Gerard's hips snapped forward quickly, a hand fisting in his sweaty hair that suddenly pulled him back. Frank gasped for air and let out a gruff sob, crying as he panted loudly. A thick pool of spit landed on his lap as he sagged under his Master's firm grip. He looked up through blurred tears and almost protested when his mouth was filled again, silencing any and all argument. He reveled and basked in the soft moan that left Gerard's lips, listening to the stuttered gasps that followed it. Frank chased his orgasm a second time, speeding up quickly and in sync with Gerard's poignant thrusts.

The heavy fire in his lower stomach seemed to burst way too quickly and caught Frank by surprise, exploding through his body in glorious waves that had him moaning incessantly. He came over his hand in warm spurts as he fucked into his fist roughly, swallowing and hollowing his cheeks. Gerard cursed harshly, watching his submissive break apart at his feet. Frank's hand dug into Gerard's thigh and wrapped around it to hold him closer, his clammy hand still dripping with his release as he placed his fingers over one of Gerard's ass cheeks.

Gerard inched closer when he got the hint and slowed his hips, watching the spit run and the tears pool in his boy's clouded eyes. He ran his hand through Frank's hair slowly in wordless praise and put his hand at the back of Frank's head to keep him in place as he thrust forward and buried himself to the base in Frank's mouth. The submissive gagged heavily and clawed thick welts down the back of his Master's leg, sobbing and heaving as panic shot through him like ice. Gerard pulled back again and pulled out, hearing Frank sob uncontrollably as he curled over to catch his breath, his hands on his knees.

"Have you had enough, runt?"

Frank looked up, wiping his eyes dry on the back of his arm, and looked up at his Master as he answered, his voice barely recognizable through the cracks, "No, sir."

Gerard's eyes darkened with a sadistic pride at his submissive's answer as though it were exactly what he wanted to hear. He held the base of his cock and gestured for Frank to come closer with an irresistible crook of his finger. Frank shivered involuntarily as he sat up and opened his swollen lips, whimpering apprehensively as Gerard slid back into his mouth.

A muffled grunt left him as the slide came to a stop, his nose pressed against the hairless flesh of his Master's pelvis. He glanced up at the exquisite man and closed his eyes, relaxing his throat despite the insatiable urge that he fought to swallow, he knew it would only make him gag even harder. Gerard pulled out until he lay flat on Frank's tongue and let his submissive taste, groaning as Frank's tongue rolled and flitted and licked at every inch he could reach.

Gerard shuddered when Frank's tongue stud danced carelessly over the skin on the underside of his dick, his hand tightening in Frank's hair, keeping him still so that he could repeat the sordid action, chasing the shiver that went up his spine. Frank ran a shaky hand up to Gerard's balls, cupping and massaging them with his palm. He moved back on Gerard and was surprised when his Master let him pull off entirely. Frank licked up the side of Gerard's dick and back down as he glanced up under his wet lashes. He exhaled weakly and ducked down to suck on Gerard's balls, whining at the way he felt Gerard waiver under the touch. He took pride in the fact that he could make his Master melt in the same way and continued sucking and licking gently, his fingers trailing back and forth with spit-slick over Gerard's taint.

The gasp from Gerard's mouth ended in a low groan that had Frank's stomach jolt. He took his Master into his mouth slowly and wrapped a hand around the rest of the length, twisting slowly as he hollowed his cheeks. He looked up for any signs of protest when he ventured forward with his fingers, circling his Master's hole slowly. The guttural moan from Gerard's throat was something that Frank wished he could hear over and over again. He slid his fingers in slowly, twisting them and pulling them out almost entirely before he repeated the action.

He watched the way Gerard's body rolled back against his fingers in a sinuous fluidity that had him envious. He continued sucking on his Master at the same slower pace as his fingers, glad that they had been slicked with his own release in fear of hurting Gerard. He crooked his fingers and massaged at the exposed nerves, groaning and cringing at the painful tug to his hair. Gerard held him still and rutted in short strokes into Frank's mouth, his head back on his shoulders as he chased his climax.

Frank could taste his Master growing closer, the bitter bite that coated his tongue steadily growing heavier as his throat was breached yet again. He pulled his fingers out and braced himself, looking up at Gerard as he put his hands on his knees and relaxed his tense frame, letting his Master know that he wanted whatever he was willing to give. Gerard caught up to his previously brutal pace, fucking into Frank's mouth roughly as small and perfunctory moans filled the room.

More tears welled in Frank's eyes as the raw burn in his windpipe flared up. He closed his eyes and focused on the entirety of the moment when Gerard's thrusts grew sloppy and erratic, his hips stilling as he pulled back and came into Frank's mouth with warm and bitter spurts. Frank's eyes opened wide, a loud whine around Gerard's cock was muffled but clear enough to signal his surprise.

Gerard pulled out slowly and Frank remained still, his nose scrunching at the exceedingly bitter mouthful that, for some ungodly reason, he was unable to swallow. He looked up at his Master helplessly, only to receive a raised eyebrow in response.

Gerard sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned in, holding Frank's jaw in his hand, "Swallow, boy."

Frank shook his head vehemently, knowing that if he did, he may throw up. He didn't want that, but he also didn't want to upset his Master. Gerard eyed him, his grip tightening, "You begged and you got it. Now you do as I say or there will be repercussions, you ungrateful cockwarmer."

Frank let out a fearful cry and closed his eyes as he forced himself to swallow. He gagged, cringing and panting, his brows knitting as the unease immediately set in his stomach, "Ugh."

"It'll pass. It's choker's rolling." Gerard explained, "You'll be fine."

"I'm gonna barf," Frank whined as he put a hand to his stomach. Herard slapped him lightly on the cheek, earning a small cry of alarm. Frank held his cheek and looked at his Dominant with quizzical eyes, "I-"

"Complaining about what you get is atrocious behavior."

"But I-" Frank stopped himself and looked down, "You're right. I'm sorry, sir."

"Good boy." Gerard praised as he lifted Frank's jaw with his finger, "Such a thoughtful boy in my possession. How did I get so lucky?"

"I, uh..." Frank bit his lip, "Luck of the draw, sir."

"Let's get you cleaned up and in bed, pup. You need something warm in that throat and you need sleep," Gerard saw Frank open his mouth and he added, "Something else that isn't bodily fluids, boy. Absolutely filthy little runt, you are."

"Problem, sir?"

"Not in the slightest."


	49. A Lot Less Business-like and a Lot More Douchebag

Frank stood against the wall in his Master's office, looking down at the clipboard in his arms. He glanced at the still-red marks on his wrists from Monday's punishment and he swallowed nervously, remembering his pain. He was still riding on a cold from the day before as well as the exhaustion from yesterday’s training. Frank glanced up at his boss for a second, blushing as he caught sight of Gerard looking back at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his lips.

“Can I help you with something, boy?” Gerard asked idly as he went back to typing on his laptop. Frank smiled coyly in response as he looked at the clipboard again.

“No, sir. Just looking.”

It was just then when there was a knock on Gerard's door before it opened and tangerine-haired Hayley poked her head in, her bright locks in a messy updo, her face flustered. Gerard looked up with a raised eyebrow, “Yes, Hayley?”

“Y-Your brother is here.” She whispered and looked down at her datebook, “He didn't schedule anything.”

Gerard sighed frustratedly, “He never does.”

“So, what do I do, sir?” Hayley asked timidly, swallowing as she looked at Gerard with wide eyes.

“Send him in, it’s fine.” Gerard waved a hand at the poor receptionist who then ran off to the front desk. Frank felt his heart beating in his chest as he pressed himself against the wall, clutching his clipboard of Gerard’s notes against his chest, realizing how tightly he was squeezing the plywood with his fingers to the point that it hurt, “Relax, boy.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank whispered softly, looking down at the realization that he was about to meet his Dominant’s brother. Frank swallowed against the dry lump in his throat and looked at his scuffed shoes. Frank looked down at the clipboard and at the dog-eared pages of Gerard’s speech that he had been busy with that morning, sucking in a shaky breath as he withheld the urge to vomit. He heard the light, but urgent, slap of shoes on the wooden floor growing louder and he pressed himself against the wall, wishing he could become miraculously invisible.

The door opened and Frank looked even further down, staring at a fiber in the carpet as caramel suede boots came into view and the ankles of black skinny jeans hit his periphery. Frank raised an eyebrow as he glanced up, his eyes widening as he took in Gerard’s younger brother. He wasn’t at all what Frank was expecting in the slightest. Mikey was dressed in his caramel suede boots and his black skinny jeans and if that color combo wasn’t enough to spark Frank’s intrigue, it would have definitely been that faux fur coat that Mikey was donning, the color matching the shoes all the way down to his mid-thigh. Beneath the coat was what looked like a grey long-sleeve t-shirt hoodie. He had on a pair of reflective brown aviator sunglasses, the sun glinting off both the frame and the thin nose ring that sat snug in his right nostril. Frank took in the tall and skinny man standing expectantly in the office with them, his pompous manner akin to Gerard’s but a lot less business-like and a lot more douchebag. Including the oddly fluffy middle-mohawk that was cut into his mousy hair.

“Dear brother.” Gerard sighed, standing up slowly, hands still on the desk as he leaned over, eyeing Mikey.

“Gerard.” Mikey gave his older sibling a fake smile as he sauntered in and closed the door, sliding gracefully into one of the chairs that sat across from Gerard.

“To what, or whom, do I owe this courteous pleasure?” Gerard asked as he leaned back in his own leather chair.

“We had an appointment for lunch today.” Mikey quirked an eyebrow, “Did your receptionist not mention?”

“It wasn’t in the book,” Gerard then turned and looked at Frank pointedly, “Did he phone you?”

“N-No, sir.” Frank choked out, “Not in your diary either.”

“Let me see.” Gerard held out his hand and Frank jumped, whimpering as he opened the door to his and Derek’s office, scrambling for the diary. His heart was hammering as he opened the diary to the right date, hoping that Mikey’s name wasn’t written in and that he had missed it by mistake. But the page was empty of a name, merely written appointments for the morning and nothing about Mikey. Frank sighed out in relief as he scurried back into Gerard’s office and handed him the diary. Gerard took it sharply, scanning the page with pursed lips until he was satisfied, “Thank you, Frank.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank whispered, taking the diary back before he stood back against the wall whilst Gerard turned to his brother.

“It matters not, you’re here now.”

Mikey didn’t reply, however, as he stared at Frank openly, lowering his glasses as he took in the suddenly shy assistant who was hoping to blend into the beige wall behind him.

“You’re his new pet?” Mikey asked curiously and Frank swallowed, remaining silent, “Oy, little boy, speak when spoken to.”

“You can answer him, Frank,” Gerard stated simply and Frank looked between them, nodding.

“Not just his assistant, are you?” Mikey sneered, “You’re the new toy.”

“Michael, keep quiet,” Gerard spoke in a firm tone but the younger brother didn’t listen, ignoring his sibling as he zeroed his focus in on Frank, who had begun to blush.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” Mikey scoffed as he turned completely in the chair before getting up and walking right up to Frank, “Look at you… Fresh meat.”

“Michael…”

Frank looked down and out of Mikey’s gaze, knowing not to reply to anything said to him unless Gerard said so. Frank was staring at the fibers of fur on Mikey’s coat near his shoulder as Mikey looked him over. Mikey then turned to his brother, his hand on Frank’s blazer, “This isn’t mine.”

“I’m aware, brother,” Gerard stated simply as Mikey scoffed.

“You’re an idiot, you could have gotten it for a discount or even free if you bought from my line.” Mikey countered, eyeing the stitching of Frank’s lapel.

“You see, Michael, that’s the difference between you and I…” Gerard turned, taking a sip of coffee as Mikey turned to look at him, “I got to where I am without coasting on someone else and relying on everything for free. I actually worked hard to make something of myself and I can afford to buy my staff and my… Partners, things they want and need.”

“Fuck off,” Mikey muttered just loud enough for Gerard to hear, the latter’s lips pursing sourly as he scowled at his younger sibling with abject disdain. He turned back to Frank, “And you…”

“Leave him alone, Michael. He has no business of yours.”

“Bit of a let down after Adam, isn’t he?” Mikey asked outright, sneering Frank right in the face. Frank knew his face fell then, his heart dropping onto his stomach and both plummeting into his size nines.

“Michael!” Gerard snapped as Frank looked down, biting and tugging with his teeth on his lip ring. Frank pushed the comment aside, knowing that Mikey was most likely trying to get a rise out of him or see him mess up and step out of line.

“I’m serious.” Mikey started again, “After the others… This one is just a disappointment. I mean Billie was gorgeous, Bert was just sweet and Adam had those rugged good looks. This is just a sad excuse for a greasy punk with daddy issues just looking for a solid lay and someone to rough him up. He’ll never be good enough. I bet he’s already fucked up.”

Frank stared passed Mikey’s shoulder, feeling his mouth start to salivate under his tongue as he pushed back tears, keeping his gaze from anyone’s line of sight. He swallowed his spit, noting Gerard stand up in his periphery but he knew that if he looked directly at his Dom that he’d start tearing up.

“Michael, I said leave him alone.” Gerard’s voice was venomous as Mikey took a step back from Frank, still eyeing him.

“So short and skinny. What does he see in you? You wouldn’t be able to hold your own with the things he does.” Mikey scoffed, “Bet you’re still new, aren’t you?”

“I-I-”

“Frank, be quiet,” Gerard whispered in command and the submissive remained silent, closing his mouth as his legs shook uncontrollably.

“That’s right. Do as your Master says or else. Can’t even hold his tongue. If Billie were here he’d be on his knees as my footrest by now. Adam would have taken my coat and Bert would have done anything I asked. What’ll you do, huh?”

“Michael, I’m warning you…” Gerard walked out from around his desk, taking his brother by the shoulder in a squeeze that almost crippled him, an iron grip that made him wince for a second before he turned to Gerard.

“Y’know what?” He shook Gerard’s hand off, “I don’t think I want to have lunch with you and, honestly… I don’t think I want to be around that ugly and disobedient thing.”

It was the sound that hit Frank’s ears before he registered the action. The loud singing whack of skin on skin as Gerard all but forcibly slapped his brother across the face. Mikey’s face shot to the side with the sheer force of the slap, sunglasses flying to the ground with a light skitter of metal on wood.

“How fucking dare you come in here, so fucking sure of yourself, and insult not only my staff,” Gerard grabbed his brother by the hair and spun him around to the door and opened it with more force than necessary, “But my submissive as well.”

“Let go of me!”

“Gladly.” Was all Gerard replied as he threw his brother out of his office, muttering in French under his breath. But Frank wasn’t paying attention, no. He was way past that. He was trying to be as silent as possible as he sobbed against the wall. Everything that Mikey had said to him had hit the worst nerves in his body, had triggered his very insecurities within five minutes of meeting him. Frank was silently crying to himself, wiping his tears on his sleeve as he tried to stop, tried not to let the words affect him the way they had already done. Frank heard Gerard close the door again with a sigh, turning when he took a step closer, “Frank?”

“Y-Yes, s-sir?” Frank sniffed, looking up at his Master as his heart continued to pound like a hammer in his stomach, his face hot and his hands gripping the clipboard so hard he was convinced it was about to snap in half.

“My dearest boy.” Gerard muttered softly as he took a step closer and tried to pry the clipboard from Frank, “Give it here, come now.” Frank let go of the clipboard as he latched his arms around Gerard, sobbing loudly against his Dominant’s chest as the latter stroked his submissive’s hair in a soothing pattern.

“Don’t take him to heart, boy,” Gerard whispered, his lips pressed against Frank’s head as he backed them both up slowly step by step until he lowered them both into his chair, pulling Frank into his lap, sitting the sniffling boy across his legs.

“I-I- And- And he... He said- And I could- And-” Frank let out a gut-wrenching sob as more tears spilled from his eyes, warm and salty down his cheeks and into his lips.

“Don’t listen to that uncouth misfortune.” Gerard continued, “He knows nothing but fabric samples and espresso.”

“B-But he was r-right.” Frank sniffed as he clutched Gerard’s free hand in his despite how clammy his hand was, he held it in his own as tight as he could with their fingers interlocked.

“He most certainly wasn’t, Frank. If he were, then I wouldn’t be with you.”

“You shouldn’t.” Frank looked down as his heart sank and his brain came to the stark realization.

“Pardon?”

“I…” Frank frowned as he readjusted, “Pineapples.”

“Frank?” Gerard asked out in surprise at the sudden call of the word neither of them wanted to hear or say. Frank avoided Gerard’s gaze as he slowly and carefully climbed from his Master’s lap. Frank said nothing as he reached up and under the back of his collar, unfastening it from around his neck as he felt Gerard’s eyes on him in an unwavering gaze, “Are… Are you sure?”

“Pineapples.” Frank repeated more to himself than to Gerard, feeling like it was all he could say, like if he said anything else that it would undo what he was trying to accomplish, that any other word would pull himself back into Gerard’s tight hold.

“Can I ask why?” Gerard’s voice was unreadable, his face devoid of emotion as he steepled his fingers over his lap cautiously.

“You deserve better and… And Mikey was right. I can’t be what you want. Sure, I-I can do this to an extent and I could probably do it well but… I’m not who you want, or what you want, and you deserve someone with more experience.”

“I don’t want someone like that.” Gerard countered calmly as more tears threatened to spill up in Frank’s already blurred eyes.

“But you deserve it and- and... “ Frank took Gerard’s hand and put the black collar in his pale palm, “I just…”

“Frank.”

“Please just- just let me go.” Frank withheld the sob that was in the back of his throat when he looked up to see Gerard’s solemn eyes on him in a thoughtful gaze that seemed to be teeming with any and so many other emotions that didn’t even crack to his perfect surface.

“Okay.” Gerard stated simply, “I won’t hold you back if this is what you feel you need to do. Where are you planning to go?”

“I-” Frank stopped dead in the realization that he had nowhere to go, that Gerard was his saving grace and his home, “I don’t know.”

“Here.” Gerard sat up and opened his desk cabinet, pulling out his briefcase. Frank watched, sniffing, as Gerard pulled out a white card and a small book, writing something in it before he tore it out and handed them to the shaky and unstable Frank in front of him.

“What’s this?”

“The card is for my suite at the Hotel Plaza. You can stay there for as long as you need. To decide what you want, and the second is a cheque for your salary thus far. You need something to tide you over and you can cash it when you see fit. I take it that you leaving means that you will be absent, but I, luckily, have Josh so it’s okay. He’ll fill in for you in the meantime.”

“I…”

“You can take my car to get your things, you can just tell the driver where to go if you need.” Gerard began shuffling papers on his desk, sorting it out when he cleared his throat and looked up Frank before he looked down again, frowning.

“You don’t need to do any of this.”

“I said I’d look after you, didn’t I?” Gerard said softly before he put Frank’s collar in his briefcase and out of sight from it laying on the desk.

“You- I safeworded…” Frank frowned, “I ended this, you don’t need to do anything for me if I’m not yours anymore.”

“You think a piece of paper defines my feelings for you within its confines?” Gerard seemed almost insulted as he looked at Frank. The latter looked down in shame at the glance he was getting, tears welling up in his eyes as he tried to bite down an apology, “I didn’t mean for that to be too harsh.”

“Wh-” Frank looked up, “Since when do you care about harsh?”

“I resent that.” Gerard narrowed his eyes and Frank looked away again, realizing that he was right.

“I’m sorry, I-I guess I’m just trying to find any and all reasons to leave because if I don’t, I…” Frank swallowed again, “I should go.”

“This is the last time I’m going to ask,” Gerard began as he stood up, keeping his distance a foot or so away from Frank, “Is this what you want?”

“It’s best…” Frank nodded, “For us both.”

“If you wish.” Gerard looked Frank over for a second, “You should go.”

“Do- Do I get a goodbye?”

“Do you want one?” Gerard then raised an eyebrow and Frank mulled the idea over in his head as he ran the ball of his tongue piercing over his teeth, stepping closer. Gerard looked down at Frank for a minuscule second, reaching up to wipe away one of Frank’s stray tears before he held himself back, frowning at the indecision of his actions. Frank wiped away the one lonely tear and slipped into Gerard’s arms for one last hug, a short one, he promised himself as he took in the soft musk smell of his cologne that mingled with the scent that was so strongly ‘Gerard’. Frank closed his eyes, sighing out before he realized he was far too comfortable in the tight vice of Gerard’s strong arms. Frank shook his head, muttering to himself as Gerard’s arms dropped down to his sides, looking almost as lost as Frank did, although he covered it up easier and quicker than Frank ever could.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, please.” Gerard stated in a sudden business-like voice, the tone was somewhat reminiscent to Frank of their first meeting at the cafe and he was ashamed to admit just how much it hurt to be spoken to that way.

“Yeah.” Frank lied, “Will do.”

“Go on.” Gerard gestured to the door, “Collect your things and be on your way, boy. I have things to do.” Frank knew it was a lie, he knew Gerard’s schedule and his workload and he knew that Gerard barely had anything to do that day. He also knew that Gerard was taking the mature high road, trying to make it easier for them both, being the strong one as usual as Frank crumbled inside.

“Thanks,” Frank said as he slid the card and cheque into his pocket and walked to the door to his and Derek’s office.

“Anything for you, boy.” Gerard whispered just loud enough for Frank to hear as he sat himself back down in his chair and reshuffled his papers, opening his laptop back up. Frank looked down at the discarded pair of aviator sunglasses on the floor and he felt bile rise up in his throat. He lifted his foot, bringing it down hard on the expensive pair of sunglasses, hearing them crunch and shatter under his shoe as the taste of hatred filled his mouth and mingled its way into his veins.

“I’d have preferred his face but that’ll do,” Frank commented, looking at the glass that speckled in shards on the wooden floor.

“I’ll bet.” Gerard replied curtly, looking at Frank, who gave his boss one more short glance before exiting the office, exiting their relationship, their agreement… Their life together.


	50. Frank Told Himself that He Wasn’t Going to Cry Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Book two will be up around this time tomorrow so keep an eye out for it!

Frank sat in the back of the tinted and darkened car, unfocused on anything around him as he was being driven. Part of him had wanted to protest and say that Gerard didn’t need to do this for him, but Frank honestly didn’t have the energy to fight his overly-persuasive boss. Mikey had completely ripped him apart and had broken him down so viciously. Gerard’s driver remained silent in the front, following the orders he had been given; Frank was grateful for that. He sat where he always did and tried hard not to notice the unoccupied space beside him.

Frank had felt completely useless and, in a way, he still felt like he was nothing that anyone could want. Gerard had made a mistake and Frank believed it wholeheartedly. He wasn’t what he thought he could be; he couldn’t be the person that his Master expected of him. How could he even continue to lie and pretend? That wouldn’t have been fair on Gerard and it wouldn’t have been fair on himself either.

That’s what hurt the most. He was so sure that he had been kidding himself the whole time since he signed the contract Gerard had given him. Frank believed that he had it in him to be the person that his Master wanted but the mention of Adam and the other previous submissives had Frank turning cold all the way to his bones. Mikey talked about him as though he was shit that Adam could have easily stood on and not cared in the slightest. He wasn’t well behaved; Frank knew that he had annoyed Gerard more than once because he had disobeyed orders and felt so stupid. He wasn’t cut out for any of this, he wasn’t built the same as anyone that Gerard had owned beforehand.

Frank wiped his eyes dry of tears when he noticed that the car was slowing down and turning. He frowned and looked out of the car window to see the front of the house. Frank really didn’t want to be here; he just wanted to be taken straight to the hotel so he could hit the minibar and drink until he couldn’t feel the emotions that were ripping him apart from the inside out.

“Mr. Way requested that I should bring you here first,” The driver piped up, catching Frank's attention, “So you can collect your things before I take you to the hotel.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Frank nodded, realizing that all he had on was the suit in which he had gone to work this morning. Frank was grateful for knowing that Lindsey was at the office today. He knew that if he saw her then he would probably break down on her and want nothing more than some form of comfort to stop himself from hurting so much. But she was linked with Gerard and Frank just needed the distance. He let himself into the house and shut the front door behind him, he didn’t hang around to see if the maid was still in the house. He caught a glimpse of himself in the large mirror in the entranceway and knew that he looked like shit. His face was blotchy and red, his eyes swollen from crying. He looked like nothing other than a mess in an overpriced suit that he didn’t even want to be in anymore. He climbed the stairs sullenly, heading straight for his room.

Frank noticed that the sheets had been changed on his bed; clearly the maid had come and gone. Frank tugged at his tie, loosening it from around his neck before he tossed it onto the bed. He couldn’t bear to be dressed in Gerard's clothes any longer. In his head, it didn’t feel right because maybe he never deserved any of this. Gerard had probably only done this to win him over, and won him over, it had. He rid himself of the suit as the same thoughts barreled through his head.

_I’m not built for this. I’m not cut out for this. I’m just not what I thought I could be._

Frank walked into the expanse of his closet and pulled his suitcase from a high shelf. He dropped it on the floor, opening it up. He threw on one of his old t-shirts as he put his clothes into the suitcase; only his clothes. He didn’t want anything that Gerard had given him. That was all part of the lifestyle that Frank couldn’t think about right now. He didn’t want any reminders, nor did he want Gerard to think that he would steal from him. None of this was _his_. The rows of expensive suits and casual clothes that Gerard had bestowed upon Frank, none of this was _his_. Frank couldn’t bring himself to look over it all as he pulled on a pair of his own jeans and pushed his feet into his socks and sneakers.

Frank was packed and dressed and out of the house as quickly as possible. He didn’t even look over the house as he dragged his suitcase into the entrance that he had been in not fifteen minutes before. He didn’t waste any time as he lugged the suitcase out of the house, setting it down by the car before turning back to the house, pulling the door closed.

He didn’t even think twice when he pulled out his keys to unloop the front door key that Gerard had given him. He pushed it through the letterbox before he turned and headed back towards the car. Frank grabbed his suitcase again, pulling it towards the trunk of the car. He groaned under his breath when he heard the sound of the driver getting out to walk across the gravel driveway towards him.

“Let me help you with that,” Gavin offered politely as he tried to grab at the suitcase while Frank got the trunk open. Frank knew that he was only trying to be nice. Hell, it was probably part of his job description to help in situations like this, but Frank didn’t need the help. He was his own person and he could do this all by himself.

“It’s fine. You really don’t have to do this,” Frank insisted but the driver clearly wasn’t having any of it, only making Frank irate that he was still being treated like this, “Seriously, stop!” Frank snapped, snatching his suitcase handle from the driver’s hands, “I can do it by my-fucking-self.”

He didn’t mean to snap; he hated the fact that he had snapped at the driver, but he hated the fact that he was still being treated like he was worthy of this. He just wanted to feel somewhat normal even though he swore that he was going to break down and cry again. Frank told himself that he wasn’t going to cry anymore, but he also knew that he was only lying to himself.

"Sorry, dude. Sorry…" He muttered guiltily as he put his suitcase in the trunk. Gavin didn’t say a word to him as they both got back into the car. He didn’t say a word to Frank for the rest of the journey either. He was alone with himself in his head, replaying the moment in the office over and over again. He was reliving it and hating how he had been talked about. Yes, Gerard had defended him, but that didn’t stop Frank from the sad epiphany that had bitch-slapped him harder than a pimp with a slow-day hooker.

He was too fragile to properly process anything so he tried his best to zone out, feeling somewhat numb and hurt from how it had all come to an end. He tried his best not to cry, but he couldn’t stop the stray tears from escaping. He only wiped them away just so he could tell himself that he wasn’t properly crying. If he accepted that he was, then it would only make him cry more. He couldn’t do that now, especially when the car slowed and pulled up underneath the elegant Longway of the hotel.

“The Hotel Plaza, sir.” The driver told Frank, looking at him in the rearview mirror. Frank took a second to glance out at the hotel, instantly feeling like he was not supposed to be in a place like this; the front of the hotel looked far too extravagant. Frank's stomach churned as he took in the sight of the hotel, wishing he could be anywhere else.

“Thanks,” Frank said weakly, getting out of the car to get his suitcase from the trunk. He heaved the case out, setting it down on the pavement to see the driver standing by the side of the car, waiting for him, “Look, if you’re about to offer to carry that in for me, you really don’t have to.”

“Very well, sir,” The driver smiled at him, “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“Yeah… I’ll try to,” Frank muttered under his breath as he lugged the suitcase behind him and he made his way towards the entrance of the hotel. Frank swallowed nervously as he walked up to the black revolving doors. Instantly, he knew that they were going to look down their noses at him. The doormen were already watching him as he made his way up the rich-red carpet that led to the doors. He knew that he was already dressed far too inappropriately for such a high-class hotel like this one. Maybe if he had kept his suit on then he would have fit in a little better, but there was no way that he was going to be keeping anything that Gerard had given him. He just tried his best to ignore the judging looks he was getting from the doormen, keeping his tear-stained face down while he pushed himself and his suitcase into the hotel.

All of a sudden, he knew that he was so out of place, and he couldn’t stop his eyes widening. The magnitude of decadence that surrounded Frank had him dropping his suitcase down on the marble floor. He barely made it a few meters passed the doors before he was completely taken aback by the sheer elegance.

The lobby was lit brightly but it was warm and welcoming, marble pillars lined with swathes of stunning flower arrangements circled a lavish and oversized carpet in the center of the floor. Swirls of red and cream grey patterns covered the circular carpet that Frank didn’t dare to step on. He walked around it, still pulling his suitcase while taking in as much as he could of the lobby at once. He ran his hand over one of the marble pillars as he walked past it, feeling like a kid in some overly exorbitant candy store where he knew that he wouldn’t be able to afford anything that would be offered to him. Thank God he had Gerard's card. At least when he flashed thee card at the concierge, he knew that he wouldn’t be thrown out onto the street because he didn’t officially belong here.

Frank gazed over the rest of the lobby while he slowly made his way towards the front desk. A delicately gorgeous chandelier hung in the center of the lobby, red silk-lined chairs sat between some of the pillars on the far side of the front room, and small tables and chairs sat by the windows. Frank couldn’t help but wonder what lay passed the lobby as he walked backward towards the front desk. Frank was so in awe, no matter how he shit he looked and felt; he still couldn’t believe that he was in a place like this.

“Can I help you at all, sir?” Frank heard behind him, making him turn on his feet, his sneakers squeaking on the marble floor. He came face to face with a rather unpleasant looking member of the hotel staff. Her blonde hair was in a sleek ponytail, her grey eyes piercing his soul and her brown-painted lips pulled into a purse of expectancy. Frank smiled weakly, trying not to look like he had just been through one of the worst experiences of his life. He noticed the look of disdain on the front desk clerk's face, but still, he tried to be as confident as possible.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded and grabbed his wallet out of his jeans. He pulled the card out of his wallet and slid it across the front desk. The clerk looked more displeased when she watched Frank push the white card towards her. He offered a polite smile, “I’ve come to stay for a few nights.”  
  
The desk clerk, Frank noticed her name was pinned to her lapel. Camille picked the card up, checking it briefly before putting it back down, “This card is for the royal suite.”

Frank knew that Gerard had a suite here but he had no idea what the suite was called. He just assumed that he had a room and that was that. Frank nodded, trying to look like he knew exactly what the clerk was talking about, “I know what the card is for, that is why I want to stay here, dude.”

“Please can you just take a seat for a moment, sir,” Camille said far too insipidly for Frank's liking. She pointed towards the chairs behind Frank and forced an obviously fake smile while she picked up the card, “I must make a phone call to… make sure the suite is ready…”

Frank knew exactly what the clerk was doing; he wasn’t stupid. He dragged his suitcase away and went over to where he had been told to sit. Frank just knew that the desk clerk was calling someone to say that an obviously unwanted person was trying to use a suite- The royal suite in fact. They probably assumed that Frank had stolen the card. Frank sat patiently in the rather uncomfortable chair opposite the front desk, watching the clerk talking on the phone for at least a minute or two.

Eventually, Camille put the phone down before picking it back up again. Frank sighed heavily as he shifted in the chair because they really were uncomfortable. Frank tried to lip-read, but he could barely make out what was being said. All he knew was that the clerk was reading out what was on the card to whoever was at the end of the phone. Then she looked shocked, rather put out before he looked annoyed and unhappy about whatever had been said to her on the other end of the phone. She looked over at Frank again, nodding before she hung up. Camille stepped out from behind the front desk, walking over to him.

“Your suite will be ready for you in five minutes, sir,” She said flatly but more politely than before the call, "Your concierge will be with you shortly to take you to your suite.”

Five minutes later, Frank was impressed because he assumed that he would be late going up to his suite, but a young gentleman in a navy suit with gold trim, similar to that of the desk clerk had been wearing, walked up to him and gave him a bright smile. Lowell introduced himself to Frank as his personal concierge before offering to take his suitcase for him. Frank was about to protest, but how could he refuse when he had never been treated like this in a hotel before?

He remembered the one time he and Ryan stayed in a hotel on holiday in Chicago. He had to lug everything up to the hotel room while Ryan decided that he needed to make sure that the hotel had everything that it said it did on the website- That had been exhausting. As much as Frank knew he could easily carry his suitcase up a few flights of stairs to Gerard's suite, he let the concierge put his case on a golden bag-trolley and pushed it alongside them both. The room was near the top of the hotel and Frank was surprised when he saw that only one door seemed to be on that floor. If the lobby was anything to go by then his suite was probably a hundred times more extravagant.

“The royal suite for you, sir,” Lowell said, running the card over a sensor on the door before he opened it. The card got handed back to and Frank pocketed it before stepping into the suite, expecting how it would be, but not actually expecting what he saw.

“Holy Ben Kenobi,” Frank whispered under his breath, absolutely gobsmacked about his surroundings. It was like a palace fit for a king- Or a congressman at least. He took a few steps before stopping, not knowing what to look at first. There was so much about the suite that had knocked Frank stunned, “Th-This is the royal suite?”

“This is our most spectacular and opulent suite. Our largest in the hotel,” Lowell began, stepping closer to Frank as he held a hand out, pointing out the wonder of the suite that Frank was standing a few feet in from the door, “Four bedrooms and bathrooms, with a jacuzzi and steam room.”

“Jesus…” Frank said under his breath, looking over the decadent decor that filled the place. It felt more like a grand house than a suite in a hotel. The finest furniture dotted the room, sitting perfectly placed in the suite. For a moment, Frank couldn’t understand why Gerard would need four bedrooms and bathrooms in a suite. Then again, if he could afford something like this, which he obviously could, then the number of rooms probably didn’t matter to him. It was the elegance of it and the status that Gerard had which meant that this suite was definitely one in which Frank could see him staying.

“Only the finest antique furnishings are used in our royal suite,” Lowell went on, giving Frank a moment to look over what he assumed was technically the main room in the suite. The furnishings caught Frank's eye; gorgeous cream sofas and gold-lined chairs surrounded a large glass and mahogany coffee table. Every item in the suite screamed 'high class', from the red silk cushions that were perfectly placed on the sofas, to the gold lamps that were dotted on priceless cabinets and tables. Frank didn’t have a word to say about the suite. Lowell continued, “The suite boasts two living rooms, one which we are in now… A private kitchen and a spacious dining room that can seat up to eight people.”

Frank was still astounded as Lowell strode across the off-cream carpet, making his way over to a set of doors in the corner of the room, waiting for Frank to join him. He did eventually when he noticed, mouth still hanging open in shock as he made his way over to the door that Lowell had opened for him.

“This is the master bedroom out of the four bedrooms in this suite,” Lowell explained letting Frank take a few steps into the oversized bedroom, breathing out a quiet 'wow' as he did so, “Each bedroom comes with its own en-suite marble bathroom, and in this bedroom, you have a king-size bed. Twin beds in the other rooms.”

“You don’t say…” Frank spoke, captivated by just how grand this whole suite was turning out to be. Gold trim lined the top of the pure white walls, silk curtains were pinned open at the windows and large, most likely silk again, drapes were tucked behind the bed that Frank swore was the biggest bed he had ever seen. The most sumptuous cream and purple trim sheets lined the bed. Lilac and purple pillows were placed meticulously at the head of the bed against the gold-lined headboard. More antique and priceless furnishings filled the room, each item seeming more and more elegant as Frank looked over them. Another glass coffee table, smaller than the one in the first living room, sat atop a silver and off-white rug with more gorgeous sofas and armchairs placed around it. For a second he merely basked in the amazing wonder of the suite in which he was going to be staying. He to look at Lowell, “Does Gera- I mean, Congressman Way stay here often?”

“A few times a year,” Lowell smiled, “When on business.”

“And the rest of the time it just sits empty?”  
  
Lowell chuckled, not answering Frank's question as he turned and walked out of the bedroom. Frank frowned, going to follow only to find the young concierge in the living room again, holding onto an iPad, “All of your in-room services and pillow menu can be found on this iPad. Any problems you can call me anytime on my personal number which is...this.” He said before handing Frank a small card with his name, position, and number on it.

“Okay,” Frank nodded, staring at the small embossed gold-printed numbers on the card. He nodded again before he pushed the card into his jeans pocket, “Thanks.”

Lowell smiled, “I do hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“I hope so, too.” Frank nodded, forcing out a fake and dry chuckle, almost forgetting what had happened earlier. Lowell eventually left Frank all to himself.

He took a moment to look around the suite again, running a hand through his hair “Fuck.”

For five minutes, Frank went looking around the whole suite, inspecting every bedroom- They weren’t as elegant as the master bedroom and he knew he was definitely going to be sleeping in it, but they were still fancy and decked out with the most exquisite decor. He checked out the en-suite bathrooms, gawking when he took in the sight of just how stunning a bathroom could be. Syrup and rich platinum tiles covered the floor, matching the warm russet marble that lined the bath and sink. Frank caught sight of himself in one of the mirrors that covered the bathroom walls; he ignored how red his face looked. A sinking feeling grew in him, but he tried his best to ignore it while he continued to look around the suite.

Passing through the second living room that was attached to the first one, he found himself walking into the dining room. On the large dining room table, he found an ice bucket perched with a bottle of Krug champagne sat in it in ice. Frank half-thought about opening it, but he didn’t want to seem like the sad lonely type who would put away a bottle of alcohol on his own. Frank ignored it, walking around the dining room before he went back into the living room, not quite knowing what to do with himself now that he had searched the place.

He half considered watching TV, but that seemed like such a dull thing to do while he was staying in this suite. It didn’t matter that he had counted nine flat-screen TVs that he could choose from. Frank just didn’t feel like doing anything while he stood in the middle of the living room, hands stuffed inside his jeans pockets, all of a sudden feeling somewhat out of place.

And the sinking sadness that Frank had tried to ignore was rearing its head up inside of him. As much as he tried to push it back down, he just couldn’t as his eyes began to sting again. He screwed them shut and fought it, but it was no use. The lump in his throat got too much to handle when a quiet sob left him in the deafeningly quiet suite- It reminded him so much of the one person from which he had walked away.

He wiped his eyes dry, going into denial about the fact that he was crying because he felt so alone. He felt emotionally bruised and unable to cope with being alone again. Frank wished that he could pick up his phone and call Jamia because he knew that she would know exactly what to say to him to make him feel better. But he couldn’t. He wished that he could call someone who would understand and help him through this, but Frank honestly didn’t know who to call. It wasn’t like he had anyone who would understand and want to be there for him.

Frank half-considered calling one person in particular because it seemed like the most obvious thing to do. It had been an option before, but Gerard had been there late at night for Frank. Gerard was no longer in the picture so the option finally made sense. He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket, dialing the memorized number slowly, thinking this all through. He made sure that this was going to be a good idea before Frank hit 'dial', holding his breath until there was an answer, “Hey… It’s me, Frank.”


	51. Book Two

Chapter One of Book Two has finally been updated after Wattpad was having issues. Go and leave it some love, too!


End file.
